Harry Potter and the Dark Secret
by Baphy1428
Summary: [Canon/OC] Three years after Hogwarts, aurors Harry and Ron learn of the existence of Gerald Davis, son of Gellert Grindelwald and pupil of Tom Riddle, from MACUSA when the American wizard flees to Britain. Gerald presents as innocent, but as they delve deeper into the ageless wizard with unusual magical prowess, the aurors begin to doubt everything about the strange man...
1. Canon Timeline Author's Note

1881 - Birth year of Albus Dumbledore  
\- Birth year of Gellert Grindelwald

1920s- Gellert Grindelwald first imprisoned  
\- time of 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them'

1926 - Birth year of Tom Riddle

1937 - Albus Dumbledore discovers Tom Riddle at Orphanage

1945 - Albus Dumbledore defeats Gellert Grindelwald  
\- Gellert Grindelwald imprisoned until his death  
\- Tom Riddle finishes school at Hogwarts

1955/1961 - Tom Riddle disappears from the wizarding community

1981 - Lord Voldemort kills Harry Potter's parents  
\- Harry Potter survives Lord Voldemort's attempt on his life

1997 - Albus Dumbledore dies

1998 - Lord Voldemort kills Gellert Grindelwald  
\- Harry Potter kills Lord Voldemort

AUTHOR'S NOTE: These dates are as written by J. and/or put together by the Harry Potter fanbase. I've only included dates important to this fanfiction's story-line.

This story is canon and takes place a few years after Voldemort's final death. If I vary from the canon story-line at some point, I will put it in the AUTHOR'S NOTE for that chapter.

The prologue is written from Gerald's point of view, but the actual story is written in third person, focusing on Harry- just like the original books.

Please comment to let me know what you think. Thanks for reading.


	2. Prologue: On the Run

I absolutely hate this. Over seventy years I have dealt with the bias hatred that is the wizarding community. For no reason other than the crimes of the man whose blood was in my veins, was I forced to live a muggle life...to never learn magic. I was sent away, cast out...and that should have been the end of the Magical Congress' involvement in my life.

But it wasn't.

MACUSA had somehow caught wind of how I had actually been taught magic. Not by anyone within their power, but by one Tom Marvolo Riddle. Tom was the first person to ever reveal magic, wizards, and the truth about my father, Gellert Grindelwald, to me.

It had been forty-five years since that day when we crossed paths and came to know one another. I don't know why or how it was that this information just now reached the Congress, but it was infuriating. Of all the injustice I had suffered at the hands of wizards and their petty government, this...this was the worse.

I would have continued on unaware until they decided to arrest me, too, if it hadn't been for one lone witch who took pity on me. This woman, like many others from the American wizarding community, knew my story. At least as much as anyone knew of it. However, she happened to work high within the Magical Congress.

After they were informed of my involvement with Tom Riddle, or as they call him 'Lord Voldemort,' it was decided that I would be taken in for questioning and held, pending a deep investigation into my affairs both past and current. It all didn't sit right with her, so she sought me out.

As far as muggles go, I wasn't hard to find. My life most recently belonged to the entertainment industry. My main passion was writing and I had formed a metal band for which I wrote most of the songs, with another wizard and with a muggle. The three of us were pretty close, though I was decades older than both of them, whom were in their late twenties. Of course I didn't look my age so I fit right in with my bandmates.

The wizard's name was Oliver Smith. He was originally from Dunsfold over in Britain. It was near London, if I recalled correctly. We had met eight years ago after he first moved here. I was actually with our muggle friend, Brad Angston, at the time.

It was at some point in the following year that I accidentally saw Oliver use magic to clean the living room in our home. I had already revealed what I was to Brad a few years before. I had come to know the rules about showing the magical world to muggles, but their laws had never concerned me. They had chosen so for themselves by denying me into their world.

But I digress...the woman, who never told us her name, caught us leaving an after-party. Brad had departed only moments earlier with a couple of girls. Oliver and I decided to go as well since neither one of us were feeling the drunk up, drugged down scene that evening.

It had been a small show that lasted until just past midnight. Our band wasn't famous, but we always drew a good crowd...had a loyal fanbase. The city was also on the small side so it was fairly quiet as we walked down the cold street. We shared a comfortable silence until the older woman apparated in front of us out of nowhere.

Oliver immediately drew his wand, "Who are you?"

"That's not important," the witch replied calmly.

"What do you want then?" I turned to the side, hands in pockets, resting my back against a storefront, equally as calm.

"I came to warn you...you are Gerald Davis, correct?"

My vision narrowed. I had never grown comfortable hearing a wizard say my name, "I am..." I answered, pushing myself from the wall and retrieving my hands. Oliver took side steps closer to me, still armed.

"The Magical Congress has been informed of your involvement with Lord Voldemort," she continued.

"Wha-" I started.

"Tom Riddle," Oliver reminded me in a whisper.

I shut my mouth and stared at the witch, my hands twitching.

"They plan to arrest you...to interrogate you while you're prisoner...I don't know what else will come of it..." she trailed off.

"Why would you tell him this?" Oliver demanded softly, loosening his stance.

"I'm not sure," she hung her head. "But I don't like how you've been treated," she looked up directly into my eyes.

"Who told them this?" I asked, not breaking her gaze.

She shook her head and took a step back.

"WHO TOLD THEM?" I repeated, walking towards her.

The woman then quickly spun on her heel and disapparated. Afterwards, Oliver and I had continued walking. I was angry, yet remained calm. Oliver, however, was frantic.

"You have to leave. You can't stay here, Ger."

I was silent.

"Are you listening to me?!"

"Yes, I heard you..." I sighed.

"Good. I can take you to Dunsfold. You know I've been talking about moving back to the UK anyway. We'll need to hurry. Who knows when-"

"Ollie, I'm not leaving. This is my home," came my protest. I kept walking, but Oliver fell behind.

"Are you insane? Wizard governments can be ruthless when they think the safety of others is at risk and as far as I hear, the American version of the Ministry is even worse."

"MACUSA," I mumbled.

"What?" he barked.

"They're called MACUSA," I clarified.

He paused.

"I know what they're call- GERALD! These assholes have been against you since day one. I know you're a good guy, but do you think that's going to be enough for them?" he jumped in my path then and pushed me back.

I looked up and almost growled at him, but my expression immediately lightened. I knew he meant well. If I had ever had a real friend...it was him. Exhaling sharply, I relented, "What do you think I should do?"

He had smiled and gave me a 'bro-hug,' before carting me around the next few hours. We had gotten as much of our possessions together as possible before beginning our trek to the old country.

And that's how I ended up here...standing outside in the dark, wet streets of London as Oliver procured a room for us at a cheap motel. On my shoulder, a large white and black rat was perched, grooming himself. I had had a rodent companion every year since...well, it had been quite a while. Barkey was my newest friend, having acquired him from a breeder about six months prior.

My shoulders slouched as I picked up the suitcase at my side before shuffling my feet through shallow puddles toward the dimly lit inn as I saw Oliver depart from the office. I followed him to the near end of the long building. He halted at a door there, opening the cheap lock with the key he had acquired.

One room, two beds. There was no television or radio, the toilet and shower was hidden behind a thin partition, and the paint on the walls was chipping. I dropped my case and strolled toward one of the beds which was gaudily clad in a floral print. I noticed a bit of a musky odor as I sat on it, and then laid down on my back, arms crossed above my head. The rat crawled from my shoulder, sniffed in an uneven circle, and nosed his way under the ugly comforter. We had left America in a hurry, as to satisfy Oliver's worry. We would be able to find a proper residence later. For now, we would rest here.

I hadn't talked to Oliver the rest of the morning and still refrained from doing so even now. I wasn't really upset with him; I was just dissatisfied with the current situation and my life in general. I had tried to make it habit not to converse with anyone I wanted to maintain a positive relationship with while in such a mood. Oliver knew this about me and had given me space and silence. He had taken a seat on the other bed, pulling off his jacket and setting it beside him before retrieving his wand from its inner pocket. He pointed the stick to the lamps around the room, deluminating them, and then curled up under the covers, facing away from me.

I slid my hand underneath the head of the comforter where Barkey had crawled. The rat was cuddled in a ball next to the pillow. I stroked his back a few times while I stared at nothing in the dimly lit room. Once again, wizards had destroyed my life...and for nothing. My mind kept returning to who could have told MACUSA about me. My only living relative, my mother, was dead. Tom Riddle was dead. Everyone...it seemed every wizard I had even known was dead now. I was left with my two fellow musicians and a fat rodent.

The mystery kept me from sleeping at all. I would do my best to rest my eyes, but the thoughts of this unknown enemy kept returning. _Who could it be?_ I tossed, turned, and muttered to myself for hours. I wanted to leave and find a drink, but I kept reminding myself that neither Ollie nor me needed a drunk Gerald right now.

By the time it was evening again, I was a grumbled ball of rage. Ollie had somehow slept until the mid-afternoon when he left after the simple announcement that he would be back shortly. I had finally reached the state where I was exhausted enough that moving was almost painful. My mind had never settled though, and the last thoughts that fluttered through it before I was unconscious were:

I don't know who did it...but when I found out...

They were _dead._


	3. Chapter 1: The Lie

Harry had been studying the photograph of the American metal band for a considerable length of time. Three men, appearing to be in their twenties, wore all black clothing and stared at the camera nearly emotionless.

The man on the left had his dark hair cut short and molded into tiny spikes with red tips. He wore straight jeans and a t-shirt with a logo Harry didn't recognize. His skin was of a medium tone, and he appeared to be mildly overweight. The member on the right wore something that appeared to be a suit, but since the entirety of it was black, it was a bit hard to tell. His skin was light. He had a prominent jaw and a defined nose. His wavy black hair was thick and reached past his shoulders. Both of them had dark eyes that were probably brown.

But it was the person in the middle that he had been focused on the most.

This third man stood several inches shorter than the other two members, and was the only one with light colored eyes- icy blue spheres, but with dark eyeliner around. Medium length hair a platinum color adorned his head, a swatch of it reaching down to his eyes. He, too, wore black jeans and t-shirt, but with a casual vest hanging over. Despite a strong nose and jaw, his features were soft and his skin was ghostly pale...Harry wondered if he wore makeup to achieve this affect.

Gerald Davis. That was his name. Harry had come to know wizards can live much longer than muggles, but this? This man was fifty years his senior and somehow managed to look even younger than him.

"Harry?" Ginny's voice sounded worried.

"Hm?" Harry mumbled, barely looking away from the picture for a second.

"You've been looking at that photograph for the better part of an hour..." the witch placed her hand on her husband's shoulder.

Harry then shook from his thoughts, "I'm sorry," he smiled, "It's just..."

"It's unbelievable!" Ron spoke through his food, "But fascinating though, isn't it?"

"Ronald!" Hermione slapped the redhead on the shoulder.

Harry stifled a chuckle. At any other time the scene would be comical to him, but right now he was too enthralled with this discovery of the mysterious wizard that he couldn't help to be anything other than solemn.

"He's right," the auror mused.

Ginny and Hermione exchanged concerned glances and Ron even stopped shoveling food into his mouth long enough to join them in watching Harry. It had been three years since the final battle at Hogwart's...since the day of Voldemort's destruction. It seemed that the wizarding world had just started to move out from underneath the cloud of horror and death the dark wizard had brought upon them. But then this...

Harry had only recently established himself as an auror. When he had gone into the Ministry that day, he was met with a notice to see the Minister of Magic at once. Over the years, Harry had grown a keen sense of knowing when something was wrong and the feeling had hit him the moment he read the message. As he entered the minister's office, the doors locked behind him, he knew that he had been correct.

"Harry, good morning," Kingsley Shacklebolt greeted without warmth.

"Good morning, sir," Harry smiled nervously.

There was a brief silence as Shacklebolt took his seat and rustled through a small stack of papers. He grabbed a quill and started scribbling on one of them.

"You wanted to see me?" Harry prompted.

The minister sighed, "Yes, well," he inhaled sharply, "I've just received word from the Magical Congress of the USA that we may have a dark wizard in our midst...a previously unknown death eater even..."

"A death eater? in America?" Harry was stunned.

The minister grabbed one of the papers he had been fiddling with and passed it to Harry. It was a portrait of three young men dressed in black. Harry scanned it quickly, looking to see if any of them had exposed left arms. Only the man on the left did and it was bare.

"I don't understand," the younger wizard continued, dropping the picture back onto the desk. "How have we never heard about him before now? If he is a death eater, surely-"

"One of the other death eaters would have given him up for their own pardon?" Shacklebolt suggested, "Yes, that was my thought as well. However," he dropped his quill and put his finger on the man in the middle of the photograph, "MACUSA assures us that this man was not only involved with the dark lord, but that he is also the only living relative of Gellert Grindelwald...his son."

Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. He picked the photograph back up and stared at the man, "How did they come about this information?"

The other wizard leaned back in his chair, putting his hands together in his lap, "The president has sent copies of their records detailing that Gerald Davis was born to Gellert's wife only days after they first arrested Grindelwald. Fearing for her and her child's safety, she went into hiding. The two were found several years later. Gerald had been raised without any knowledge of the magical world," the minister paused to be sure Harry was following, "Even though this was satisfactory to the congress, they insisted a trace be put on the boy. He continued through his teenage years just as oblivious. When he turned eighteen and the trace broke, representatives of the congress were sent to assess the situation, but they were never able to find him or his mother."

Shacklebolt stopped and picked up a glass for a long drink of water. Harry could tell the man was flustered which was unsettling in itself. His hands were shaking and he didn't offer a drink to Harry as he normally would. The auror waited patiently for the rest of the story.

"Almost a decade ago, they found him again. Gerald had apparently continued living a muggle life. After becoming some sort of musician, a wizard happened upon his work and mentioned his name to an older wizard who then relayed it to MACUSA. Gerald was investigated. No magical items or artifacts were found in his things. When questioned, he claimed that before his mother died, she told him about magic and who his father was, but that he had never learned witchcraft and had continued to live as a muggle."

"And they just believed him?" Harry stated more than asked.

Minister Shaklebolt sat up and pointed at the picture still in Harry's hand, "Oliver Smith, the man to the right of Gerald, is a wizard from Dunsfold. He corroborated Gerald's story, saying that Gerald had no wand and did not know how to perform magic. For the last seven years, MACUSA has not had any trouble with Gerald and therefore no reason to disbelieve his story."

"Until now," the auror observed, lowering the photo and looking intently at the minister, "Why did MACUSA share this with us? If he's in America-"

"That's just it," Shacklebolt interrupted, "They can't find him...or Oliver Smith. They've spoken with others the two work with, but nobody has seen either of them in a week."

"Have they been reported missing?" Harry inquired.

"The third man in that photograph is their closest companion. He has said that both his friends are safe, but refuses to share their whereabouts."

Harry had looked down to the picture again, "Is it not against the law for him to withhold this information?"

The minister sighed, "He's a muggle. I'm not sure how the congress plans to proceed."

"Do you think they've come here? To Dunsfold?" the younger man was looking at his elder once more.

"I don't know, but the president of MACUSA seems to be leaning towards believing that outcome."

Harry nodded.

"You'll share this information with Ron and nobody else," Minister Shacklebolt's eyes were hard upon Harry's, "We don't want to start a panic before we know more about this entire mess," he returned his gaze to the papers before him.

Harry had gone home early that afternoon. He invited himself and Ginny over to Ron and Hermione's home. There he had shared what had happened with the whole group: something Kingsley certainly saw coming.

"So we need to see about finding this Oliver fellow, yeah?" Ron's mouth was crammed with bruscitt.

"Yeah," Harry finally put the photograph down. He placed his hand atop Ginny's which was still resting on his shoulder. Giving her a smile, she returned it, leaning in for a peck on the lips.

Ginny picked the empty plates from the table, grudgingly leaving her brother's behind. Hermione, however, snatched Ron's plate and went with Ginny to the kitchen in the next room. The two quickly returned, but neither to their seats.

"Come, Harry, let's go home. I want to spend some quiet time together before I have to leave," Ginny had walked behind her husband and was rubbing his shoulders, "You will watch the boys while I'm gone, won't you?" the witch smirked at Hermione.

"Of course," Granger chuckled, tugging at her husband's shirt, gesturing for him to see their guests off.

Harry had taken hold of Ginny's hand again and was grinning at her. "We'll all be fine. You just focus on winning your Quidditch matches."

Harry stood up and walked hand in hand with his wife to the door. Hermione pushed Ron up and the couple followed.

"Dinner was excellent," Ginny offered, turning around as she reached the door.

"Thanks," Ron, who had done nothing to help prepare the meal, said, earning another smack on the shoulder from Hermione.

"You be careful on your trip," the disgruntled witch smiled to Ginny while simultaneously glaring over at the redheaded boy.

"I'll see you tomorrow then, Harry," Ron spoke.

"See you then," his partner replied.


	4. Chapter 2: Priorities

Harry knew he should have been focused on his wife that evening, but all this about Gerald and Voldemort being sprung upon him had gotten his priorities out of order. He lay there half-naked in bed, staring, yet seeing nothing. His mind was completely enveloped in this new case. This Oliver had to have some ties to the wizarding world here in Britain. Perhaps there was even a file on him at the Ministry...

"Harry?" Ginny's soft voice came from across the room.

Harry turned his head to see his wife had emerged from the bathroom, wearing thin pink lingerie. He gave a weak smile. He wasn't dumb. Ginny had been acting seductively since that evening. She would be leaving the next morning on the first trip of the Quidditch season and would be gone a couple weeks for training, matches, and meeting fans.

The woman walked over to the bed, slowly raising one knee onto it and then the other. She sat with her legs folded under her, spread apart as she shrugged her shoulders and flashed a flirty grin at her husband. He reached his arms forward, inviting her closer to him. Her smile widened and she crawled carefully on top of him. Smirking down on him for a moment as his hands felt up and down her body, then she leaned forward and began kissing his cheeks, lips, and neck.

Harry wanted to be in the mood, he honestly did, but he still couldn't shake his thoughts from this Gerald Davis. _Was the man really a dark wizard?_ Maybe he was actually innocent of everything. Perhaps if he had been a death eater at some point, he turned his back on it just as some other death eaters had...like Professor Snape...

"You're still thinking about that American, aren't you?" Ginny spoke suddenly.

"Um.." Harry was caught off guard.

His wife then removed herself from him and laid down beside, pulling the covers up over her and grunting.

"I'm sorry," Harry rolled over on his side, placing his hand on Ginny's now covered stomach.

A brief pause passed while the witch crossed her arms and shook her head slightly. She uncrossed them, then sighed, turning toward her husband, "It's ok," she said, "I know how much...well, how much this must have shaken you." She moved onto her side, hand propping up her head. The pair was now facing each other, "We all thought we were done with Voldermort and then this bit came about out of nowhere."

Harry squinted, his head motioning side to side before looking at his wife, "And that's the thing," he started, "There may be nothing to this. Just because he was born to a dark wizard doesn't mean he is one himself. Same thing about knowing or being close to Voldemort... The man could be completely innocent, especially considering he hasn't been associated with any magical crimes."

"He did lie about practicing magic and about knowing Voldemort," Ginny pointed, "Also, MACUSA didn't even know he still existed until recently and when they found out, he disappeared. It kind of speaks against him."

"I know..." Harry trailed, slamming his head back onto his pillow.

"Harry..." the woman smiled sweetly, inching over to the frustrated auror, "It will all be okay. He's just another wizard and just another case. He's not Voldemort... Voldemort is gone for good."

Harry turned his gaze toward her. She was always so patient, so kind and understanding. Beautiful and Strong. The most perfect wife he could hope for. A contented grin reached his lips. He reached a hand upward and cuffed the witch's cheek in it. Ginny closed her eyes and nestled her face into his hold.

"Thank you," Harry said warmly.

Ginny's eyes opened and she fell into Harry's arms, planting her lips onto his. His lips parted in turn and the two embraced each other in a passionate kiss.

Even though Ginny had to leave well before dawn that morning, Harry still woke in time to see her off. She had already gotten everything packed the day before, but still she worried about here and there for the entirety of her waking. The wizard stood at a distance, sipping his coffee. He had learned by now not to bother her while she was focused on getting ready for a trip.

He watched with a kind smile and an occasional chuckle. After two and a half hours of flustering, the witch finally sat and enjoyed a quick coffee with Harry before heading out. They exchanged farewells and reassurances, ending with a kiss and then she was off.

It was still early, so Harry took the time to try and relax before he had to ready for his day. Unfortunately, the instant he laid in bed again, his mind was overwhelmed with the case just as it had every time he had a moment's peace since first hearing of it. Grunting in aggravation, he pushed himself back up and walked to his desk in their living quarters. The photograph of the three men was there in the middle of it.

Gerald Davis. Oliver Smith. Brad Angston. An American metal band.

Harry flipped the photograph over. _The Devil's Children_. He supposed it was a decent name for a metal band though he wouldn't really know as he never delved into the genre. It wasn't so popular in the UK, he didn't think.

He lowered the photo onto the desk and took a seat. He booted up the computer that he had gotten only a year ago. The internet had been an ever-evolving way of gathering information and he wondered what was there about _The Devil's Children_ and its members. While he waited for the machinery to warm and the system to start, he retrieved a second cup of coffee from the kitchen.

Upon returning to his chair, he clicked on the small 'e' at the bottom panel. The screen turned white before displaying colorful letters that spelled the word 'google.' In the box below, he typed the band name and clicked the 'search web' button. The following page was surprisingly entirely made up of links to sites discussing the musicians.

' _The Devil's Children Official Site'_

 _'Metal Forums: Discuss 'The Devil's Children''_

 _'The Devil's Children Receive Honorable Mention for Best Metal Performance GRAMMYS 2000'_

 _'New Single Released by The Devil's Children: Don't Die Yet'_

 _'Mary Christle's Blog: I met The Devil's Children! Gerald is sooo cute!'_

Taking a sip of his drink, Harry clicked on the first link. The site had a black background with silver-tinted white text. The band's name was displayed artistically across the top and beneath it was a row of tabs with the main page consisting of a picture of the band. It was different from the one the minister had given him.

Gerald stood center again, his arms crossed, his head tilted to the side, and his lips curled into a smirk. Oliver looked much the same as he did in the other photo, but with his back to Gerard and holding a black guitar. The muggle, Brad, held drumsticks up to the camera, forming the shape of an inverted cross. He was winking and his mouth was open wide as if in the middle of a scream.

Beside them were a few paragraphs of text explaining how the three had all met about 8 years ago and formed the band. It also listed a couple of awards and honorable mentions. Nothing much of interest. Harry pushed his mouse to hover over the row of tabs. There were grids of show times, where to buy merchandise, when tickets were on sale, and also a way to contact in order to hire them.

Harry returned to the web search results and clicked on the next link. The forum had several threads. Most were dedicated to discussing the meanings of the lyrics of various songs. A couple were asking how they could go about meeting the band members and then another few were comparing their music to other bands.

Harry took another sip and went back to Google. He skipped the article about the GRAMMYS and the link to their newest song and clicked on 'Mary Christle's' blog post about meeting the band.

" _Oh my god! I can't believe I actually got to meet 'The Devil's Children!' I've gone to 6 of their shows but never had VIP tickets. I went to last night's show in Dallas. I got there early because my mom said she would drive me because she was meeting her friends somewhere for dinner. My friend who lives in Dallas said I could stay the night and she would drive me home in the morning. So there I was, just walking around killing time. It was like two hours before the show. And Brad was actually outside, behind the arena smoking a blunt!_

 _"At first, I didn't believe it was him. There was nobody else around. But I walked over to him and it was! He asked me if I was there for the show and when I said I was, he asked if I wanted to come meet Gerald and Oliver! EEEEEEEEEE! So I went inside with Brad. He took me to the backstage rooms and Oliver was there playing his guitar! He smiled when he saw me and said 'hey.' Brad introduced me and said, 'where the fuck is Gerald?'_

 _"Apparently he was laying on the other side of the room on the couch sleeping. Brad went and hit him on the head with his drumsticks. I tried not to laugh, but I couldn't help it. Oliver sat up and pushed Brad away. I think he was angry at first, but when he saw me, he got up and walked over and thanked me for coming to the show!_

 _"So for the next almost hour, I sat around and talked with Brad, Oliver, and Gerald! Brad is just as goofy and crazy as he seems on stage. Oliver is really kind and calm and Gerald is very reserved. He doesn't talk much, but he's obviously really smart. It still feels like a dream, but I have proof!"_

Below the article, Mary had attached a few pictures. The first was her standing with the three men. On one side of her, Brad showed a toothy smile, his arm around her waist. On the other side of her, Gerald smiled, but barely. His arm rested on her shoulder. Beside Gerald was a cheerful Oliver. The other two pictures were just candid shots of the four sitting around a stereo in one, and Oliver playing the guitar in the second.

Harry took his hand off the mouse and leaned back in his seat, drinking more java. His current internet finds had him in a better mood concerning the situation. Part of it was the positivity they had shown about the band and its members, but more of it was that he couldn't fathom what evil person would waste there time working with all of that. It just seemed out of character to him.

He pushed his chair forward again, setting down his mug. Returning once more to the web results, he scrolled further to see if anything regarding legal matters or indiscretions popped up. There was nothing on the first page, so he clicked over to the second.

Nothing.

Harry picked up his cup and began drinking while his eyes glossed over the screen in front of him. That's when he noticed something new on the site. Underneath the search bar was a button that read 'images.' He rubbed his hand against his face in thought before clicking on the new option.

Instead of pulling up a list of sites, this time, Google presented him with many different pictures. There were photos of the band's logo and showtimes and a few that seemed irrelevant, but there were also several of the band members themselves. And that is where Harry found something interesting: a picture of Gerald with his teeth bared, giving a menacing look. He was holding his left hand into the air, curled into a fist. There, on his arm, the dark mark was inked.

Harry clicked on the image and it grew larger. Well...it looked like the dark mark, but not exactly. Through an open-mouthed skull, a snake slithered downwards with its own mouth opened. It's fangs showed, dripping what could have been blood or venom. Looking back to the skull, though, Harry could see the symbol of the Deathly Hallows printed upon its forehead.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, for the record, Google was still pretty fresh around this time and Images was a new option ^.^ HOW MANY OF YOU FEEL OLD RIGHT NOW? XD I do ._.**


	5. Chapter 3: Stephen Smith

Harry had printed a copy of the picture of Gerald's tattoo and carried it with him to the ministry later that morning. He met Ron in the records department to look for any information on Oliver Smith, mainly focused on where he might be.

They had found quite a bit regarding the wizard, actually. Eleven years ago, Oliver had graduated from Hogwarts, albeit only a few students above the bottom of his class. Ravenclaw had been his house where he was noted for his talents in music and poetry. He had an older brother, Stephen, who had graduated a Hufflepuff five years prior, and was still listed as living in Dunsfold. They were the only children of Daniel and Maggie Smith.

"Did you find anything on the parents?" Harry called.

"Yeah," Ron gruffed, carrying a stack of papers from behind a shelf and toward his partner. "Daniel and Maggie Smith, deceased November 12, 1993 at the ages of 42 and 39 respectively. Died to an unknown muggle assailant," he read, then looked up at Harry, "Apparently they were shot to death at a concert in London," the redhead returned his eyes to the paper in front of him, "Maggie Smith suffered two shots in the back from a 45 caliber pistol. Daniel Smith took three shots to the chest. Public statement by the muggle police surmised that Maggie was attacked first and then Daniel, as he turned to face the shooter. The couple were pronounced dead before ministry officials were notified of the attack."

"A concert?" the lead auror mused.

"Yeah," Ron looked up from his papers.

"Does it give any more details on that?" Harry inquired.

The redhead shuffled through a few papers before pulling out one and handing it to his friend. Upon taking it, Harry realized it was a flier. It announced the appearance of multiple indie rock bands and a meet-and-greet of the bands' members. Harry leaned back in his seat and rubbed his chin.

"What is it?" Ron asked.

"I just...I wonder-" his partner started.

"Here," Ron shoved another paper at his friend, who quickly reached forward and took it.

"Oliver Smith, second son to Daniel and Maggie Smith, spoke to muggle and magical officials the following morning. Oliver stated: _"I was at the indie rock festival last night. I had left a message on the icebox letting my parents know. I knew they didn't want me to pursue a career in music...at least not in rock music, so I left the note to avoid an argument. I was out most of the night and morning talking to people whose bands had performed. I had...I had no idea anything had happened until I came home an hour ago...and you all [the police] were here."_

Harry put the paper on the desk beside him and then looked over at Ron to see if he was going to add anything else. Over the years, Ron's confidence and detective skills had grown immensely. It was so much different to the scared little redhead Harry had first met and yet at the same time...he hadn't changed at all.

When the Weasely said nothing further, Harry turned in his seat and retrieved the paper with the information about Oliver and Stephen he had been reading. On it, there was the same address listed for both brothers. It was no doubt their parent's home...a residence in Dunsfold. 1993 was when their parents had died. That was also around the same time _The Devil's Children_ formed so that meant shortly after their death, Oliver had moved to America. Perhaps Stephen had remained in their childhood home.

Either way, it was all they had, so that's where they would start. Harry pulled a small tablet from his pocket to which an enchanted quill responded and flew to work. As he spoke the address out loud, the quill took the note down perfectly, before the wizard replaced the notepad into his pocket, the feather following of its own accord.

Nodding to Ron, the two young aurors started on their way. As they walked out of the data rooms, into the hallway, and then the elevator beyond, Harry remembered the photo that he had printed off earlier that morning. Just as the doors to the elevator closed and it began whirring to main hall of the ministry, he handed the picture to his partner.

"Is that the dark mark?" Ron's voice squeaked.

"I thought it was, at first," Harry said, "But it looks different. See?"

The redhead was studying the photograph carefully, "It's larger," he surmised, "And is that?"

"The symbol used for the Deathly Hallows," Harry finished, "Yeah."

The box the two wizards were in swayed to a stop and the doors swung open. Harry stepped out into the main lobby of the Ministry of Magic followed closely by Ron as more workers pushed their way inside the elevator. The second wizard took a few quick strides to catch up to his friend before handing the picture back.

"I have to say, he does look quite mean in therer," Ron pointed as they continued on their way to the fireplaces that would send them to Dunsfold.

Harry looked back at the picture as they walked. Judging by the background, the photo had been taken while Gerald was on a stage of some sort. You could make out lighting equipment and part of a drum set and there were black curtains surrounding the scene. Gerald was giving this 'evil' face slightly upward as if the cameraman was above him. Perhaps someone with a higher seat in the audience had zoomed in to catch the shot.

Harry looked up just in time to come to an abrupt halt. He had almost waked directly into one of the chimneys on the main floor. Glancing at Ron, he chuckled before saying, "Your place," and stepping into the flames with his friend. There was the familiar swirl of energy and wind as the two wizards were transported through the network, finally settling within the walls of Ron's home.

"I haven't been to Dunsfold since I was a child," Harry admitted after regaining his ground.

"Ronald and I were there just a few months ago," Hermione's voice sounded, causing her husband to jump.

"Blimey, Hermione! What are you doing home?" Ron blurted.

The curly haired woman sat reclined on a couch just opposite the chimney, a book resting in one hand and a cup of tea in the other, "It's nice to see you too," she raised an eyebrow and emptied her hands.

"You have the week off," Harry stated, "I had forgotten."

Hermione stood up and walked toward her husband, brushing dust from his shoulders before giving him a brief kiss on the lips. Ron smiled awkwardly, "That's right. We were there at some cafe."

" _Morning Brew_ ," Hermione clarified, "A woman I work with told me about it. A squib friend of hers had only just opened it. I told her we'd go to give our support."

"Right," Ron said as if suddenly remembering.

"Can you take us there?" Harry asked.

"Did you find that man Gerald?"

"No," Ron said, "his brother."

Hermione nodded. She put each of her arms out to her side like wings, motioning for the men to take hold. Harry and Ron did so, and the witch immediately apparated the trio from the house. Their bodies settled in a small opening behind a tiny building. There was a skid and a few rubbish bins there and the area was surrounded by an iron fence and bushes.

Hermione naturally took the lead and brought the others to the front of the place in front of a row of windows looking in on a relaxed scene of couples' tables and cushioned chairs. Outside stood a sign proudly displaying the name _Morning Brew_ and a cup of steaming coffee drawn in chalk. The three kept walking, passing a young man sweeping around a few outdoor tables before they reached the sidewalk and stopped.

"Right," Hermione began, "Now where is it you're going?"

Harry pulled out his notepad once more and handed it to the witch. She furrowed her brow before taking a step backward and calling over to the man working outside the cafe, "Excuse me!" The man looked up, "Which way to Fox Road?"

The worker looked from side to side before pointing towards his right, "Just over the hill and to the left," he called back, "You'll pass Amity."

"Thank you!" Hermione returned as the troupe started on their trek.

It took all of about five, maybe six minutes to reach the corner of Fox Road. Stopping to look at the address once more, Harry resumed the lead as they set their sights for house number four-fifty-six. The presumed Smith residence was only a few homes in.

Hermione let Ron in front of her as Harry opened the small gate and approached the home. He knocked determinedly on the door and waited. The entrance swung away after only a moment to reveal a tall, dark haired man. He had a trim beard and was well built. He had received the door with a smile, but as his eyes settled on the wizards, the expression fell.

"H-Harry Potter? and Mr. Weasley?" he stammered, "I-uh-how can I help you?"

"Hi, Mr. Stephen Smith?" the lead auror asked politely.

"Yes?" the man returned.

"We were actually looking to speak with your brother," Harry paused, "Have you seen him recently?"

"Ollie?" the man seemed worried then, "No, I haven't spoken to him in- oh wow- almost two months now? Wait, he's back in Britain?"

Harry glanced backward at Ron, "We don't know, but-"

"Steve!" a woman's voice called from inside the house.

Stephen turned his head back into the home, "Just a moment!" he yelled to her, "Is Ollie in some sort of trouble?" he spoke to his guests again.

Before Harry could say anything, a young blonde woman appeared next to Stephen. Upon seeing Harry Potter, her smile faded as well, "What's going on?" she asked.

"They're looking for Oliver..." Mr. Smith trailed.

"Oliver?" the woman shook her head, "Is he alright?"

"We just wanted to speak with him," Harry reiterated, "He may have some information that can help us out," He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card, "If you speak to him, let us know?"

The brother hesitated, but took the card, "Sure," he mumbled.

"It's about that Gerald bastard, isn't it?" the blonde suddenly grew angry.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged looks as Stephen put his arms around the woman, hushing her, "Mary, don't start with that."

The witch, Mary, broke from the man's hold, "Oliver is a good man," she pleaded, "Please don't let that Gerald drag him into anything."

"Mary, quiet!" Stephen scolded.

"Don't shush me!" she yelled back at him. "That Gerald is no good. I warned Oliver not to associate with him and now we have aurors at our door trying to find him!" she was completely livid.

"Mary, stop that now! You have no reason to be so critical of the man!" Stephen turned to the woman who had locked her teeth and stared at him furiously for a moment before storming off into the home.

Stephen sighed and returned his attention to the wizards on his doorstep, "I'm sorry about that. I'll let you know if I talk to Oliver," he immediately started closing the door.

"Sir!" Harry ducked in. Mr. Smith stopped in place, the door close to hiding his face behind it. "How come she doesn't like Gerald? Have you two ever met him?"

The man sighed again, "Once. It was two years ago or so. Oliver invited us to come overseas and see one of their concerts and spend the weekend with him," the brother scratched his head, obviously unsure if he should continue, "Oliver and Gerald live together, you see."

"Oh," Harry and Ron both said in the same awkward tone.

"No! Not like that, I mean-" Stephen fumbled, "Ugh. They're not _together_ , I only meant that staying with Oliver meant that we were also staying with Gerald."

The wizards nodded in understanding of their mistake.

"Ollie hadn't told us that...well, who Gerald's father was," Stephen searched his company's faces to see if they knew what he meant. Realizing that they did, he continued, "And I understand why, but...well that Sunday evening, Oliver, Mary, and I returned to their house after having spent the day seeing the city's sites. Gerald was drunk...or high...to be honest, I can't tell the difference, but either way, he was pretty messed up," he paused and was scratching his jaw line.

"He said something about his father?" Harry prompted.

Stephen stopped scratching and nodded, "The main room was trashed. Gerald was walking around the mess taking turns between muttering and yelling random nonsense. Things about MACUSA, horcruxes, vampires, and some other random stuff. Ollie called out to him and Gerald spun around at the sound of his name. We-" the wizard cleared his throat, "We saw he had a knife in his hand..his sleeves were cut and dripping blood. He looked right at Ollie and said, ' _I'm coming to make you suffer, Grindelwald._ '" Stephen cupped his mouth in one palm and shook his head.

Harry stepped forward, "What happened then?" he asked softly.

The brother inhaled deeply and looked at the auror, "He tried to cut his own throat... Ollie barely managed to get his wand out in time to throw the knife from Gerald and stupify him. My brother ended up telling us about Gerald's past with being kept from learning magic and all and how Gellert Grindelwald was his father. Mary...well as you can see, it shaded Mary's view of Gerald ever since."

"Does Gerald have a problem?" Ron spoke for the first time that meeting, gaining Stephen and Harry's gaze, "Like with drugs or alcohol?"

The lead auror gave a slight tilt in affirmation of the question and waited for Stephen to answer.

The man was shaking his head, "Ollie assures me that he doesn't. Apparently, Gerald keeps away from such things because he has a tendency to overdo it...but Ollie says that he's ever gone overboard a few times in the eight years they've known each other."

"I see," Harry hummed, "Well, we thank you for your time."

The auror gave a brief smile and a nod before turning away with Ron and Hermione to leave.

"Mr. Potter!"

The trio turned their heads to the voice.

"Mary's right...Ollie is a good man," Stephen said. "He tells me that Gerald is also and...well...if my brother says so, that's enough for me," the wizard gave a committed nod before disappearing inside his home.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: Please let me know what you think with votes and comments! It's much appreciated ^.^**


	6. Chapter 4: Muggle Crimes

"Sounds like he's got some daddy issues, yeah?" Ron blurted as he, Hermione, and Harry took a table inside the _Morning Brew_ cafe.

"That's not funny, Ronald," Hermione reprimanded.

"No," Ron squeaked in protest, "I didn't mean that it was. All I'm saying is that this Gerald's obviously got some problems he hasn't worked through."

"Harry, Ron, Hermione!" a voice called.

"I got it," Harry stood and walked to the counter several feet beyond their table.

Standing behind it was the man that had been sweeping the lot earlier. Harry looked at him, noticing that he was actually much younger than previously thought. He had to be fourteen? Fifteen perhaps, but no older. The boy was just very tall and sturdily built.

Harry took the three latte cups that were on the counter in front of him and nodded. The boy smiled, wishing him a good day before returning to his work. When he reached his group again, he spoke, "It actually made me feel sorry for him."

The two other wizards stared at him as he took a seat and handed them their drinks. Confused expressions quickly turned understanding and the three sat sipping their coffees in silence for several moments, deep in thought.

The small cafe was warm and inviting. It was fragrant of flowers outside and of coffee beans in. Besides the workers, which there seemed to be only three, there was just one other party seated inside. A teenage couple, obviously on a date of sorts. A woman had walked inside and ordered a cappuccino and stood impatiently drumming her fingers on the counter waiting for it.

"What do you two plan on doing next, then?" Hermione broke the silence.

Harry set down his coffee, cupping it in both hands on the table before him, "I was thinking we would contact Igor Karkaroff," He looked up at Ron who appeared worried.

"That man gives me the creeps," Ron admitted.

"Oh grow up," Hermione mumbled, taking another sip of her drink. "I think it's a good idea. Just because it never came up before, doesn't mean other death eaters have never heard of Gerald," she continued, "There could actually be several reasons he was never spoken of, if you think about it."

Harry nodded, "Exactly. In any case, we can't rule anything out at. We need as much information as we can get."

"Does that mean we have to talk to Malfoy too?" Ron whined.

Harry and Hermione just stared at the redhead. The answer was obvious and Ron already knew it as well. The two refused to waist their breath on such a stupid inquisition and instead waited for Ron to move forward.

"Aw you've got to be kidding?" Ron continued his complaint, "You know that's no use. They don't care. They got away from standing trial so they're free. That's all they're worried about, ya know?"

"Are you done ranting, Ronald?" Hermione sighed, raising an eyebrow. "It's your job to be thorough even if you don't end up learning anything."

Harry shook his head and smiled, accidentally letting out a soft chuckle. The couple turned their attention to the auror, which caused him to laugh even more. Ron and his wife both eased. Smiles crept onto their faces which quickly evolved into laughter as well. The three friends sat in the middle of the cafe, oblivious to their surroundings in their inappropriate time of merriment. Some things just never changed...

Igor Karkaroff, headmaster of Durmstrang Institute and reformed death eater. The floo network unfortunately did not span all the way to Russia. Since Harry and Ron were currently the only acting auror's, Harry decided against immediately taking the trip to see Karkaroff. Instead, they opted to send the headmaster an owl, informing him of their desire to speak with him in a secure manner.

 _"Headmaster Karkaroff,_

 _The Ministry of Magic is currently conducting an investigation on an individual which you may have information regarding. We would like to have a meeting to speak with you on this matter. We feel it best for this to take place in person as to remain secure. Please respond as soon as it is possible. Thank you for your time._

 _Harry Potter  
Auror's Department"_

Harry folded the letter, placing it inside an already addressed envelope before addressing it and handing it off to the red and white barn owl that sat in the window across from him. The bird bit the paper enthusiastically before flitting around and soaring out of the opening he was in. Harry rose from his seat and stepped toward where the owl had exited. The auror watched as the bird continued his flight over the town and into the distance, out of sight.

The work day was almost at its end. After returning to London, Hermione saw her husband and Harry back off to the ministry. She told them she would be spending some time seeing if she could find anything else of interest about Gerald or Oliver in the muggle world. At the office, the aurors searched through paper after paper after book after book. Nothing new had surfaced about their targets or what could possibly have been them.

But they still had a long way to go to finish sorting through the information.

Harry left Ron to organize the paperwork into what had been seen and what had not while he went to send the owl in an old building near the outskirts of the city which also belonged to the Ministry of Magic. When he no longer saw the outline of the bird, he sighed. Descending the spiral steps to the bottom floor and to the chimney there to transport back.

He was with Ron on this one...he really didn't want to talk to the Malfoys.

It wasn't even Draco, either. The boy had grown up quite a bit and was surprisingly civil. He was still annoyingly egotistical and petty, but Harry could handle him. No, it was the thought of talking to his father, Lucius, that really nagged at Harry. That wizard hadn't changed an ounce...ever...and that was definitely not a good thing.

His money and the way he could twist words to his advantage had kept him from standing trial for crimes committed under Lord Voldemort more than once. He was arrogant, cruel, and evil. There was no redeeming quality to his character except his apparent love for his family. But even that, at times, didn't seem so strong.

"Oh there you are," Ron piped, "I was just about to leave."

Harry popped back into reality. He had gone through the ministry's lobby, onto the elevator, and down the hall to the Auror's department without even thinking about it. He watched as the redhead put an armful of scrolls down onto a desk, almost dropping them all in the process. He didn't reply to his partner, but instead went to the desk opposite and picked up the receiver, laying it down on the wood gently.

"Call Draco Malfoy," Harry commanded.

The phone vibrated to life as the rotary spun six times on its own. Then the receiver turned into a speaker, projecting the sound of a handful of rings as the machine connected to Draco's residence. Ron glanced over at Harry, but the wizard didn't acknowledge him.

"Hello?" a female voice answered on the other end.

"Hello, this is Harry Potter. Is Draco available?" Harry spoke in a completely professional tone.

"Oh, um..." the owner of the voice was in thought, "Just a moment."

A small _clunk_ was heard presumably as the woman set the phone down to call on Draco. A few moments passed during which Harry shifted his position a few times and his counterpart inched closer to him and the conversation.

"Potter?" The two aurors would always recognize that criticizing voice.

"Draco? I-I was wondering if Ron and I might speak with you...with your father too, if he would," Harry said, losing a fraction of his resolve.

"What for?" Draco spat. The ex-death eater was obviously annoyed at the thought of such a meeting.

Harry sighed, looking over to Ron, whom met him with a shrug and an eye roll. "We're gathering information on a case. You and your father might know something that could help."

"Can you be a tad more vague, Potter?" Draco chortled sarcastically.

"I'd rather not share anything specific over a line," Harry was doing his best not show his distaste for his old classmate.

There was a brief pause. Soft shuffling sounds were heard through the speaker.

"Fine," Draco relented, "I can see you tomorrow evening. I can't speak for my father, but I'll inform him of your request," he added.

"Thank you," Harry nodded even though the man on the phone couldn't see.

"Five. You know where I am. Don't be late," the orders left the haughty man's mouth before the line went dead.

"Well," Ron spoke up as Harry put the receiver back onto the phone base. "That went well."

Upon leaving the ministry for the day, Harry decided to meet up with Ron and Hermione at their home to see if Hermione had found anything useful over the past several hours. He stopped by his own home long enough to change into a more relaxed outfit instead of his work suit. After quickly slipping on a plain white t-shirt and dark fitted blue jeans, he apparated to the Weasley/Granger residence.

The small village home was set in the country-side, a good quarter mile from any other houses. There was plenty of room for livestock and even a small farm. It was actually in Hermione's plans to keep animals at some point after she felt more settled in her position as representative of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.

Harry gave a small knock on the door which was immediately answered with a yell from inside. He let himself in to the pleasing aroma of a pork roast cooking. Stepping into the living area, he found Ron sitting on the sofa that Hermione had been lounging in earlier that morning. He was focusing on a paper held in his hand. In front of him was a short, but long table that held a handful of other papers.

Hermione walked into the room, wand in hand, "Hey Harry, dinner is almost done. Ron will get you started on all this," she made a circular motion over the paperwork with her free arm before returning to the kitchen.

Harry took a seat in a chair opposite his friend, "What did she get?"

Ron looked up at his friend while he sat the paper down, "So Gerald does have a criminal record."

Harry learned forward, "doing what?"

"Well, nothing major," Ron clarified, "but Hermione found that in the past three years, he'd been arrested for assault five times, three of which while intoxicated."

"Assault _and_ battery," Hermione had suddenly reappeared into the room, "As well as aggravated assault."

"Well," Ron pouted, "What's the difference?"

"Assault could just be acting threatening, but battery means an actual attack," Harry explained.

Ron and Hermione stopped to look at their friend before Hermione smiled, "That...that's right. and aggravated assault is basically assault and battery with a deadly weapon," she continued. "Would you like me to make plates for you?"

"Yes, please. Thank you," Harry smiled while Ron nodded and smiled as well. Hermione was once again in the kitchen.

Harry reached over the table and picked up a few papers, "I didn't find any of this on the computer," he muttered, reading the articles in his hands. There were five different papers and each was formatted like a court proceeding. He scanned the minor details as he waited for Hermione to return.

As she walked back into view, he spoke, "How did you get these?"

Hermione placed a plate on the table in front of Harry and handed a second to her husband. "It's all public record," she was looking directly at Harry now, "I just called the judicial systems and requested copies," she went to the kitchen once more, but returned quickly with a third and final plate. Sitting down on the couch next to Ron, she put the plate in her lap and returned her attention to the conversation.

"These are all in different states...well, in four different states..." Harry was switching through the papers. "How did you know which ones to check?"

Hermione shrugged, dropping her eyes to her food and pulling apart her serving of roast. "I didn't...so I called all of them."

Harry stared at her, slowly dropping the papers toward his lap. He couldn't believe- actually, yes he could. Hermione's dedication to knowledge and to whatever mission she had had always gone unsurpassed. He gave a short chuckle, "Too bad he wasn't more popular."

Ron and Hermione stopped eating and exchanged glances before looking at their friend. "Why is that?" Hermione asked.

"Because then, there would be stories about what actually happened on public record too," Harry said.


	7. Chapter 5: Lull

The next day at the ministry went by rather uneventful. Harry and Ron spent it going through final paperwork and other formalities on cases concerning wizards that had already been dismissed or sentenced. Most of them were open and shut, straight-forward and simple. Magical creatures had gotten into squabbles, lost their tempers or at their sanity (however briefly) and performed curses on the other.

There had also been a few instances of wizards torturing muggles for apparently no grander reason than the fact that they could. Usually these were very young wizards who had just lost their trace. None of these individuals were sent to a place as cruel as Azkaban. They weren't considered evil or even hardened criminals for such offenses...especially considering such people generally were never tried for such crimes again. Minor things, perhaps, but nothing to do with performing unforgivable curses.

Harry welcomed the slow and steady day, however. He knew he'd be dealing with Draco Malfoy and possibly even his father that evening and he didn't really want any more stressors until then. He'd need to keep himself cool and collected. Something he doubted Draco would worry with doing. No doubt he would be his normal, entitled self, not worrying how much it showed.

A few hours past lunch, there was a knock on the Auror Department's door. Ron quickly jumped to answer it. Harry had come to the conclusion a few hours prior that his partner wasn't as enthused about the unadventurous day. He had hardly been able to stay focused on the paperwork.

On the other side of the door, the ministry's postman stood, his enchanted cart bumping into his heels impatiently. He smiled at Ron, holding out a letter, but as the cart hit him once more, a flair of aggravation took the place of his smile. He spun around barking at the buggy carrying hundreds more letters, ordering it to stop.

The scene was quite comical and neither Harry nor Ron could suppress a bit of laughter. The postman halfway grinned even though it was obvious he didn't appreciate the joke. "Sorry," Ron almost giggled, "I know how difficult charmed objects can be. Mind of their own sometimes, yeah?" He offered the man who gave a sincere beam then before nodding his hat and leaving back toward the elevator with the cart following closely behind.

Postmen weren't commonplace in the magical world as there were owls to do the job at a faster pace and more efficiently. However, owls did not reach within the walls of the Ministry of Magic. Instead, they were sent to a protected tower further out of London. There the mail was collected, brought inside, and dispersed by the postman. It was the same place that Harry had gone the previous day to escape the office for a few moments and to send the letter requesting a meeting with Igor Karakoff.

Which exactly who had sent the letter just delivered to them.

 _"Mr. Potter,_

 _I am with thorough commitment to assisting the Ministry of Magic including helping you however I am able in your investigation._

 _I understand your concerns with communicating in ways other than face to face. However, I am presently incapable of traveling to Great Britain to speak with you in person. There is much here I must attend to concerning the school as well as personal affairs._

 _However, if you wish to visit Durmstrang Institute, I can allot time to see you. I only ask to be alerted to your arrival in advance._

 _Sincerely,  
Headmaster Igor Karkaroff  
Durmstrang Institute"_

Harry located a clear piece of parchment and his quill and jotted down a reply:

 _"Headmaster Karkaroff,_

 _Thank you for your continued assistance to the Ministry. My partner, Ronald Weasley, and I would appreciate to see you at Durmstrang Institute in the coming week at the earliest possible date. If a Monday meeting is acceptable to you, will we arrive then. Please acknowledge or notify me if this is not an agreeable day._

 _Harry Potter  
Auror's Department"_

"I guess we'll go and send it off ourselves then," Ron spoke, getting up from his seat.

Harry looked over at the wall to his left. The clock upon it read 3:32. They were due to be at Malfoy's home in just under an hour and a half. Harry folded the paper in front of him and slipped it inside of an envelope before sealing it. He took a moment to write the headmaster's name on the front and flipped it back over to stamp it. He then stood as well, walking with Ron out of the office and down to the elevator. As they went, Ron sighed loudly and deliberately.

"You know, part of me just wants to show up late like even just ten minutes. Just to piss him off," he said.

Harry chuckled, "Yeah, me too."

It didn't take them long to reach the tower and send their owl. They were probably rushing more than was necessary. It did leave them time to sit around with Hermione for a while before the dreaded meeting with Malfoy. The three friends updated each other on their days. Hermione's had apparently been just as bland as the two aurors' had been. They managed to relax a bit, but as the hands got closer to five, it was finally time for them to leave again.

Harry and Ron would have both loved to take Hermione with them. It would certainly make the entire thing more comfortable for the trio. However, with it being a matter of business, the aurors couldn't ethically justify their childhood friend accompanying them. Draco Malfoy, although reformed and very much more open-minded following the fall of Voldemort, still kept many of his childish manners even into adulthood. Therefore, none of them wanted to present him with deliberate ammo against them should he decide to use it.

Draco had become a far more agreeable man, having finally realized that muggles were not beneath magical folk, but his demeanor had remained mostly the same. He had an air of importance about him, his words always sharp and unfeeling or even critical to those other than his family. Harry tried to understand that it was surely a facade, but that didn't keep it from being annoying to deal with.

Thinking about this, Harry discussed with Ron how they should approach the situation. Although showing Gerald's photograph and name would most likely be part of their questioning, they both wanted to leave that as a finale. They didn't really think that Draco would attempt to pick up associations with Gerald so much as they were unsure of what Draco would relay to his father, if anything.

After his open acceptance of impure magical blood lines and even muggles, the relationship between Draco and Lucius had become strained as his father held strongly to his 'values' if you could even call them that. However, having shared information that led to the capture of nearly every remaining death-eater, Lucius remained with few associations making it clear that he didn't also want to lose ties with his son.

If Gerald was innocent, neither Ron nor Harry wished to be guilty of informing the Malfoys of his existence in regards to their investigation should Lucius decide to seek him out and cause him trouble. Likewise, if Gerald wasn't, keeping the dark wizards from communing would also be a positive.

Whether Draco's father was there that evening or not, the aurors still planned to meet with him. Initially, Harry had hoped Lucius didn't appear at his son's home, but after further thinking upon it, knew he'd much rather see him at a place other than Malfoy Manor. The young wizard's previous horrid experiences there were still fresh in his mind.

As Harry and Ron walked up the stone steps to Draco's much smaller, but equally elegant home, Ron glanced down at his wrist, "Dammit," he grinned, "Right on time."

The two exchanged smiles before Harry placed his hand on the huge steel knocker adorning the green door in front of them. It was crafted in the shape of a roaring lion. Lifting it high, Harry immediately let it fall again without aide. A loud bang could be heard echoing in the walls beyond and the sound even vibrated the stone on which Harry and Ron stood.

Not even a moment passed before the door opened, revealing a thin and timid house elf, "Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasely," he spoke softly, "Master Draco is expecting you." The elf stepped to the side, allowing the door to creak open completely.

"Thank you," Harry replied, stepping over the threshold and beginning down the hallway inside.

Ron nodded awkwardly at the elf as he quickly followed behind his partner. The elf pushed the door closed behind them and then snapped his fingers, disappearing and reappearing in front of Harry. The tiny creature led the guests further into the home, ending in a right turn into a large room.

In the room was an enormous fireplace with a handful of velvet-lined seats and sofas surrounding it. The walls were lined with portraits and paintings and on the furthest end was a pair of glass french doors leading onto a patio outside. The room was dark even though lamps were switched on in each corner. It was most likely so due to the deep crimson color of the curtains and furniture and the hunter green and dark greys of the wallpaper.

In one of the large chairs facing the fireplace sat Draco. He seemed to be lost in thought, his body perfectly mimicking the seat in which he sat. His back was flushed against the back of the chair, his arms straight against its arms, and his feet planted firmly on the floor at the base of it. He was staring forward into the fireplace, not moving nor even blinking. For a brief moment, Harry wondered if h was somehow charmed into a trance.

"Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley have arrived, sir," the house elf's body shook just as his words did.

Draco then turned and peered around the corner of his chair, raising an eyebrow in the aurors' direction before looking down at his servant and nodding. The elf gave a slight bow before turning around and retreating past the wizards back into the hallway. Harry and Ron ventured further into the room, stopping in the midst of the furniture, a few feet from their old classmate.

"Thank you for seeing us," Harry spoke.

Draco nodded again as he gestured to the sofa behind his guests. His thoughts were still elsewhere and both Harry and Ron wondered where that was. They took their seats, situating themselves before turning their eyes back to Draco, politely pausing to allow him to speak first.

The ex-deatheater shifted in his seat so, while retaining a reserved posture, was better facing his guests. He cleared his throat and turned his head slightly to the side, "What did you wish to speak with me about?"His affect was flat.

"Well," Harry started. "As I said before, we are in the middle of an investigation. We wanted to speak with you concerning your time as-," Harry cut off quickly changing his words, "amongst the deatheaters. We know you've already spoken to Ministry representatives about all the deatheaters you recognized. All the names and so forth. But," he paused, "We wondered if there was anybody else that perhaps you didn't mention... Someone who may have seemed inconsequential, but who you did come into contact with during that time."

Draco turned his head straight again, lifting a hand to hold his chin as he spoke, "Am I supposed to remember every stranger I passed while working under Voldermort?" he scoffed.

Harry sighed. He should have known that Draco wouldn't let this be easy. The man knew exactly what Harry was asking and that he was trying NOT to divulge more details than necessary...so the reformed dark wizard was refusing to answer vague questions by avoiding them with reasonable excuses.

"Of course not," Ron said. Harry could tell he was trying hard to be professional and not call Draco out. "Just anyone that specifically dealt with one one the other deatheaters or that you perhaps had seen with one of them that might have had a bigger part in things than it seemed at the time."

Draco dropped his hand, his eyes narrowing on Ron. Harry had to admit he was quite impressed with the redhead even though he could see him already losing patience.

"Even perhaps someone from before you worked with them," Harry spoke deliberately to take Draco's gaze from Ron. "Someone around your father or one of your friends' parents growing up."

The pale blonde man straightened in his seat, cocking his head from one side to the other before relaxing again and answering, "No," he said tauntingly, "I can't say that there is."

Harry glanced toward Ron who rolled his eyes. Sighing again, Harry pulled the two pictures of Gerald that he had been carrying around- the band's portrait and the photo displaying Gerald's tattoo. He stretched out his hand, offering them to Malfoy.

"Have you ever seen this man?" Harry relented as Draco took the pictures.

Malfoy loosened his pose, leaning forward with elbows resting on his knees as he held the photos side by side, studying them. Harry and Ron also leaned forward in similar positions, watching Draco's eyes, face, and hands for any sign of recognition before the man actually spoke again. Neither picked up any markers other than a fleeting frown that appeared to signal confusion.

After several silent moments, Malfoy emitted a grunt and handed the pictures back before leaning back into his chair and crossing one leg to where its ankle was resting on the other's knee, "No, he doesn't look familiar. Do you have his name?"

"Gerald Davis," Harry said.

Draco shook his head, "Sorry, Potter. I can't help you."

After looking intently at the man for a grin, a diverted gaze, anything to show he may be lying, Harry gave up and simply nodded. He and Ron picked themselves up from the sofa simultaneously.

"Well, thank you for your time anyway," Harry managed not to mutter, "Please let us know if you think of anything."

"Of course," Draco replied slyly as Ron and Harry continued on their departure.


	8. Chapter 6: First Encounter

"I honestly don't think he did know anything," Ron spoke to his wife who sat closely beside him.

"I agree," Harry said, "He seemed sincere. Curious, but sincere."

The pair had returned from Malfoy's home in Wiltshire just before six. Hermione had re-heated roast and vegetables from the previous nights meal and the three were munching while discussing their meeting with Draco and future meetings with Lucius and Karkaroff.

"Something's telling me that none of them are actually aware of Gerald," Harry admitted, biting into a potato.

"Me too," Ron agreed, "Of course I didn't think so from the beginning."

"I don't know," Hermione mused as she pushed a green bean in circles on her plate with a fork. "It does seem unlikely that they knew since after all this time, he or anyone who could have been him were mentioned by the deatheaters...especially when Draco's father basically sent all of them to Azkaban to save himself, but..." She put her fork down and looked up at her two friends, "at the same time it was Lucius Malfoy who was the only deatheater to give information on any more than one or two of Voldemort's other allies."

There was a pause.

"So?" Harry poked.

"So," Hermione continued, "None of them gave up more than was needed for them to be released from prison except Lucius who, as far as we know with him being basically second to Voldemort, gave up everyone that was left."

"Wait," Ron's voice squeaked as he almost choked on a mouthful of pork, "Are you saying that maybe some of them knew about Gerald and he just happened to not be someone that any of them talked to the Ministry about?"

Harry caught onto the theory quickly and piped in, "And perhaps Lucius decided to continue keeping Gerald a secret because he had never been mentioned? But why? Do you think he plans on trying to start another bloodline war?"

Hermione shook her head slowly, her brow furrowed in contemplation, "I don't know. It's just a thought, but...I feel it's equally as strange that we're just now learning about Gerald."

"Maybe..." Ron mumbled.

"Alright," Harry said, "but let's not assume anything right now. This could all be as simple as its been presented."

The other wizards nodded. All of them certainly hoped that turned out to be the case. The three continued with their meals in silence for several minutes when suddenly, the phone rang. Hermione hurried to swallow the food in her mouth, putting her plate on the coffee table in the middle of the group before reaching to the side and picking up the phone.

"Hello?"she smiled.

A crackle of a voice sounded on the other end causing her smile to fall. "Um...j-just a moment," she replied to it nervously before turning slowly toward Harry. Her expression changed to one of concern as she held out the device. "It's Oliver Smith," she said. "He wants to speak with you."

Ron immediately dropped his plate onto the table, putting one arm around his wife's shoulder and the other in her lap in order to comfort her. Harry grabbed the phone, pausing to exchange startled glances with the couple before speaking to the man on the other end of the line.

"This is Harry Potter."

"Mr. Potter? Hello, this is Oliver Smith...I was told you were looking for me?" the man spoke confidently.

"Um, yes, thank you for contacting me," Harry returned politely but awkwardly.

"I apologize for calling Mr. Weasley's home. The ministry was closed and I didn't receive an answer at your home either," he continued. "I only just spoke with Stephen and wanted to get in touch with you as soon as possible," Oliver explained.

"No, it's alright," Harry assured, starting to relax. "We-"

"I know this is about Gerald," the man interrupted.

Harry paused. "Yes," he confirmed, "Are the two of you here in England?"

"We are."

Another pause. Harry was having trouble reading the man. He seemed extremely sure of himself...but Harry couldn't tell if he felt the man was trustworthy or not. His words weren't rude however he didn't seem kind either. "Mr. Weasley and I would like both of you to come into our office at the ministry tomorrow to speak with us."

"We'd much prefer a visit from you," Oliver returned, not skipping a beat.

Harry took a deep breath in and exhaled. He shot a confused glance at Ron who mouthed the word 'what?' "Mr. Smith-"

"Please, call me Oliver," it was the first thing he had said that Harry could take as pleasant.

"Oliver..." Harry began to protest the man's proposed arrangement when he realized that there wasn't yet a reason to. So instead he asked, "Where can we find you?"

"Guildford," the man answered, "Residence 14 on Salt Box Road."

Harry tapped his robes with his free hand. His small notepad flew out along with his quill. The tablet flipped itself open to a clean sheet and the quill waited for its master to speak, "14, Salt Box Road, Guildford," Harry repeated, the quill writing with furious speed.

"Right."

"We will see you in the morning then? Ten?" Harry commanded the quill to rest.

"Perfect," Oliver replied. "Good evening."

"Good evening..." Harry trailed but the line had already gone dead.

"What the bloody hell?" Ron exclaimed as Harry dropped the phone from his ear and placed it on the table.

"Guildford?" Hermione spoke. "Oliver and Gerald are living there?"

"Apparently," Harry said. "He said they wanted us to visit them rather than the other way around."

Hermione and her husband looked at each other quickly before returning their attention to Harry who was rubbing his eyes. "Am I the only one that found that all a bit odd?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his head.

"It is weird that he called just after the two of you spoke with Draco," Hermione almost whispered.

"No assumptions, guys, right?" Harry ordered under the guise of a polite reminder.

The two others nodded and remained silence. It may just have been that he was tired, but still they felt Harry was struggling with the idea of another Voldemort being in their midst...

The three decided that there was no point in Harry and Ron rising at their normal time in order to be at their office at eight, meddling around for less than an hour, and then having to leave to take the bus to Guildford. So instead, they stayed home and slept in. Or at least Ron and Hermione had...

The couple had been correct in their suspicions of Harry's worry. Voldemort's crimes had destroyed the lives of many, but the strong connections the dark lord had had with Harry Potter had been so terrible as to where the thought of the cruel dark wizard were nearly never absent from the auror's mind.

He laid in bed for several hours after departing his friends' home, battling his fears with his rationality. He knew there had been no magical crimes found involving Gerald Davis and no severe muggle crimes. He knew that it was his own past and Gerald's that made him so concerned. But even running through these things over and over, he still felt very disconcerted about it all. Hermione's theory certainly hadn't helped.

If it hadn't been for skipping going into the office that morning, Harry wouldn't have gotten any sleep at all. Even so, it seemed as soon as he had fallen asleep, he was awake again, getting ready to meet Ron and Hermione at the bus station. Hermione was going to accompany them to the town, but not to the meeting. Once again, for the sake of professionalism.

The bus ride was pretty quiet both because it was an odd time to be aboard it on a weekday and because the trio were all still waking up so very few words were exchanged. They reached Guildford in no time, hopping from the bus very conveniently at the end of Salt Box Road. The road, although in the middle of the town, was lined densely with trees and other greenery. As the trio neared their destination, Hermione grew nervous for the safety of her husband and her dear friend.

"Please, be careful, you two," she said, her hands worriedly running inside of Ron's robes, checking to be sure his wand was in tact and ready.

He grabbed her hands and put them back and her sides and gave her a smile, "It'll be alright, Hermione. I promise you we will be cautious, but I really doubt anything is going to happen," he then turned to Harry, "Isn't that right?"

"Hm? Yeah, sure," Harry's attention was on a house far off the road to their right. It was a two-story brick structure surrounded heavily with vines, shrubs, and trees. There was a gravel path that led from the sidewalk to the front door that was barely noticeable between the overgrown lawn. On the mailbox to the side of the the door was the number '14.'

"That's it then?" Hermione stated, stepping closely beside her husband as the two crept behind Harry and stared as well.

"Well, it doesn't seem so bad," Ron said, "I mean except for the lawn which looks pretty ghastly."

Hermione gave the man a look and shook her head. "I'll wait right out here on the walkway," she said.

Harry had already begun walking through the weeds to the house. Ron quickly gave his wife a half hug and skipped quickly to catch up with his partner. When the two reached the door, Harry held up his hand to knock, but hesitated. Ron's breath hitched as he started to say something to put his friend at ease but suddenly stopped after surmising doing so might make him feel self-conscious.

When Harry finally pulled his fist back to knock, the door opened without the need for him to. The black haired man with rigid features from the photograph Harry had been studying for days stepped into view. He greeted the aurors with a huge smile.

"Thank you for coming to us instead," Oliver said. "Please, come on in," he turned around and walked back inside, assuming his guests would follow.

Harry and Ron did, of course, Ron closing the door behind them.

"It's completely alright. Thank you," Harry returned.

Oliver led them to a large, open room. The walls were white and the floors were wood of a dark color. There was an oversized red couch, loveseat, and chair to one side and on the other side was a large television set with a smaller couch and a handful of chairs. There were red accent shelves and pieces in various places as well. This modern interior greatly contrasted with the outside of the residence which spoke to have been built many decades prior. It must have all been redone.

"Ger!" Oliver called over toward the red furniture. Harry looked, but didn't see anyone. "Harry Potter and Ron Weasley made it."

Over the back of the couch, a hand with black nail polish reached, tightening as it helped to pull Gerald Davis' body up from laying and into a seated position. When his head came into view, the aurors' stances strengthened. The mysterious wizard grinned saying, "It's nice to meet you both," his words too thick to be seen as polite.


	9. Chapter 7: Wandless

A mild twinge in Oliver's demeanor led the aurors to think he was somewhat disappointed in his friend's behaviour. However, he instantly recovered, leading Harry and Ron over to and around the couch where the three of them took a seat- Oliver in a chair to the left of Gerald and the two guests sat upon the loveseat facing the platinum haired man.

As they sat, Gerald threw his legs off of the couch, placing his feet on the floor in front of him as to complete his move from laying to sitting. He finished it off by crossing his legs, one perfectly overlapping the other. Harry noticed that the man's feet were bare with toenails painted black to match his hands. His upper body lounged comfortably with either hand seeming to circle around invisible people to each side. His form-fitted black shirt and slim black pants furthered the feeling of effeminacy about him. Even as Oliver slid his hand under his long hair and pushed it behind his ear, he came off more masculine than his short-haired counterpart.

"Gerald Davis," Harry began, "I'm sure you have an idea of why we wanted to see you," he paused to allow for the man to inform them of what he knew.

"I do," the smirk on Gerald's face grew larger.

After a brief pause without further elaboration on his part, Harry opened his mouth again, but was interrupted by a sigh from Oliver who growled his friend's name under his breath. Gerald's eyes shot over to the man who gave no other gestures. He removed his arms from around his invisible company, putting hands in his lap before adding to his initial reply.

"I figure MACUSA has spoken to you after coming to the conclusion of my leaving America," he said, his eyes darting back to Oliver who lifted his hand and gave him the 'carry on' signal. "They no doubt informed you of my prior association with Voldemort and you're here to poke around," he finished, reclaiming his smirk and earning a frustrated sigh from Oliver.

"More or less," Harry affirmed as he and Ron took notice of the odd dynamic between the two other wizards. Gerald, several decade Oliver's elder, retained a playful and mildly disinterested attitude while Oliver appeared extremely reserved and regulated, giving his friend reminders to certain social cues.

"Why did you leave America?" Ron asked.

Gerald half-coughed, half-laughed at the question, turning his head to Oliver and smiling.

"Because of me," the long-haired wizard admitted, "Gerald came here with me as a favor to me. I feared for his safety in the US." He locked eyes on the aurors, "Through no fault of his own, Gerald has a bad reputation with MACUSA...one based simply on the circumstance of his birth." He paused, letting the statement sink in to his guests' minds.

Harry and Ron kept their gazes and their postures solemn, giving no signs of agreement or protest even though they did also feel that a person shouldn't be judged solely upon who they were born to. Harry glanced away long enough to see that Gerald's smile had weakened. It was still there, but had fallen from a beam to a weak grin. His eyes were still hard upon his friend.

"They never even tried to hide this prejudice," Oliver continued, his gaze lessening, "I felt that he would be more fairly treated here under the Ministry of Magic. They have a history of understanding and forgiveness as much as MACUSA has one of a polar opposite," he finished.

Harry nodded, looking from Oliver to Gerald, "We intend on nothing other than being fair."

Gerald's head was tilted to face somewhere between his friend and Harry, but his eyes narrowed at Harry when he deliberately aimed the last statement at him. The look was one of obvious distrust and Harry could feel it. He wanted to set Gerald at ease so knowing his next question for the man made him feel guilty as if those last words had been untruthful. But he couldn't get away from what he must say.

"I have to ask," Harry started, "Why did you lie about practicing magic?"

Gerald uncrossed his legs and turned his head fully toward Harry, "I was unsure of how the knowledge would be received..." his head twitched slightly, eyes never leaving Harry's, "especially considering it would be followed with the question of how I had learned."

"You mean how Voldemort had taught you," Harry pushed.

"Yes..." Gerald's expression was emotionless yet the room could feel him becoming defensive.

Harry sat back in his seat, clearing his throat. He tried to relax his posture to appear as non-threatening to the wizard as much as possible, but either he was failing or it was too late to help Gerald's mood. Feeling the tension grow as the silence continued, Ron ducked in.

"Can you tell us more about how you met Voldemort?" He said, "And about the time you spent as, well, whatever you were to each other."

Gerald's chest heaved and it became obvious he was attempting to deep-breath to keep himself calm. "Yeah," he muttered through the middle of a sharp exhale, "I met Tom when he came to America not long after he graduated wizardry school himself. We were close in age. I was actually a year older," all eyes in the room had settled on Gerald who relaxed considerably after starting his story.

"I was outside the market and noticed a young man staring at me from across the street. At first I didn't think anything of it. I kept on with my errands, but continued to notice him at different times in different places watching me from a distance. Just before I left for home, I saw him again. I didn't know what he wanted, but didn't want some wacko following me home. So I went to confront him. However, my sight was blocked for a few seconds at one point and when it was clear again, I couldn't find him. I just went home.

"I still lived with my mother or rather she lived with me. I had a job and I took care of her. Before I went inside, I checked to make sure nobody was around. I didn't see the man so I walked inside to the kitchen where my mother was cooking. She had been waiting for me to get back with a few more supplies for her to finish making dinner.

"She asked me who my friend was." Gerald paused. Harry thought he caught a glimpse of a grin shadow the mysterious wizard's face, but he couldn't tell for certain. "He had apparated behind me right before I closed the door and had followed me inside. He smiled and bowed to her, introducing himself as Tom Riddle. I didn't want to worry her, so I played along with him.

"He detailed our meeting in town saying I had helped him with finding the market and had offered for him to join in at dinner. Conversation in my mother's presence had been mostly vague and of course I didn't know what of the things Tom shared were true and which were pretty lies. After the meal, I saw him out and that's when I called his bluff. I grabbed his collar and pushed him against the wall, demanding to know who he was and what he was doing. He just grinned at me and said, 'I already told you. My name is Tom Riddle. I'm only looking for companions.' I asked why he put on such a show. What he wanted with me personally... 'Your companionship' he said."

Gerald stopped and ducked his head forward to scratch at the roots of the shortest parts of his hair. Oliver shifted in his seat, clearing his throat, but not speaking. His eyes were on his friend in silent support. He had heard this story before. Harry wondered if that had been the only other time Gerald had spoken it aloud.

"And you became his companion?" Ron prompted.

Gerald nodded, "I let go of him. I had always been pretty much isolated in my life and I found myself very curious of him. He pulled out his wand and used it to turn the porch lights off and on and then to move various items around us. It was my first experience with magic. It was simple yet astounding," Gerald looked up at Ron and Harry. "After that, yes, we were companions. He taught me about magic and how to use it."

"Did your mother know all this was going on?" Harry asked.

Gerald shook his head, "Not for another year. Not until Tom told me who my father was...He said...he had originally told me that when he saw me at the market, he could sense I had magical blood, but...after that first year, he admitted knowing that Gellert Grindelwald had a son and he had deliberately sought me out. He said he had never said it before because he didn't want to throw too much on me at once." Gerald shrugged, "Either way, it made me angry. I told my mother everything that same day."

"Were you angry with her too?"

"Yes," Gerald whispered the response. His energy fell still as he leaned forward, a hand reaching his face and cupping it.

Harry and Ron immediately knew by this behaviour that whatever happened next had been traumatic to him. Oliver shifted in his seat again. He seemed to want to get up and comfort Gerald but resisted for some reason. Perhaps for maintaining an image. Either his or his friend's. Either way, he stayed in his seat, words fighting to escape his mouth.

"What happened when you confronted her?" Harry asked in a soft, careful voice. It was already known that Gerald's mother was dead and that Gerald had an anger problem. It made Harry wonder if...

Gerald began shaking his head violently, his hand falling from his face as he stood up. Harry and Ron instinctively laid hands on their wands at the man's actions. Gerald took in a deep breath, his head ceasing movement and his stance becoming strong as he walked around the couch. Oliver's eyes were glancing from the aurors to his friend. He otherwise remained unmoved.

Gerald placed his hands on the back of the couch and leaned forward, his head hung with his eyes downward. He scoffed before raising his head and setting his gaze onto the aurors again. "I didn't mean to kill her," he said in a calm voice.

Oliver's eyes left Gerald then and became intent upon the aurors. Ron took hold of his wand, removing it from his robes. He didn't aim it directly at anyone and instead held it out loosely in front of him as he, too, stood, and faced both Gerald and Oliver. Both of them were looking at the redhead neither with menace nor with defensive posture.

"Where is your wand?" It was more of an order that left Harry's lips than a question. At this point in their conversation, he hadn't been surprised with Gerald's confession. He also didn't feel hatred or fear of the wizard. Not at that moment. He honestly even felt a tad of...pity for him.

Gerald and Oliver exchanged looks.

"I don't have one," Gerald told Harry.

"You killed your mother with your bare hands?" the words left Ron's mouth more harshly than intended.

Outer sadness left Gerald's face and he scowled, barking back, "No, I did not. I used the killing curse. But I _don't_ have a wand."

"When did you stop carrying one?" Harry put in calmly before sending Ron a reprimanding glance.

"I've never carried one," Gerald had returned to being defensive though he was trying not to show it.

"Are you- are you saying that-"

Harry was interrupted by Oliver, "Gerald practices magic wandlessAC."


	10. Chapter 8: Farewell, Friend

"Gerald, sit back down," Oliver caringly commanded.

Performing magic without the aid of a wand was something nearly unheard of in adults. Largely, when this was done, it was with young children who hadn't been chosen by a wand yet or teenagers who had been forced to suppress their magic. In the latter case, these young witches or wizards had come to lose complete control of their powers. Their spells were destructive and fatal, often ending in the child's death itself. These poor children were called obscurials.

But an adult with full control of themselves and their powers who didn't need to use a wand? Some grown wizards could perform small, quick tasks without a wand's aid such as giving their tea a single stir, but _all_ magic without a wand? Spells even as powerful as the killing curse? It just didn't happen.

Gerald stretched upward and returned to his seat, lifting a hand and flicking its finger to turn on a stereo in the distance. Rock music began playing loudly. When he plopped back onto the couch, he lifted his hand again and twisted it, turning the volume down. It was all done for show to prove his sincerity. After the music was decreased to an easy listen, Gerald dropped his hand to scratch his back as he looked awkwardly at Ron who still stood with his wand in hand.

Harry gave his partner a nod who in response let his wand to his side and sat again as well. Gerald then rested his attention between the two aurors.

"I didn't know it was so unusual until I met Ollie here," he continued, motioning at Oliver.

"We've talked much about it," Oliver picked up, "and we wonder if this ability has a correlation to his appearance."

Harry and Ron had almost forgotten the man's age. Seventy plus years and the body of a twenty-year old. Wizards could live many decades longer than muggles with good health, but it generally didn't affect the outer processes of aging.

"Can you explain your theory on this connection further?" Harry asked.

"There's not a lot of detail to it," Gerald shrugs, "Oliver thinks that I have a deeper connection with...nature or something-"

"The source of magic," Oliver gruffed at his friend, then turned to Harry. "Whatever it is within us that gives magical people magic...I feel that Gerald is closer to this...has a more pure, if you will, source of it within him. It keeps him from growing old quickly and allows him to tap into his powers without an aide."

Harry looked back at Gerald. The man seemed annoyed with the current progression of the conversation. "Do you not think so?" He offered is interest for Gerald to speak his mind on the subject.

"Eh. I really don't care," he shrugged.

Somehow Harry didn't think that he was truly apathetic toward it, but also didn't think trying to push further was going to go anywhere. Harry and Ron were both intrigued by this discovery of magic without a wand. However, it wasn't the point of their investigation and Harry didn't want to steer too far off track. So he redirected their dialogue. "With your mother...was that the only time you performed one of the unforgivable curses on a person?"

Gerald hesitated. "Successfully...yes."

Harry stared deeply into the icy blue spheres adorning the man's face. He was lying. Even though Gerald's eyes had not faltered from his own and his posture and expression didn't change, Harry could tell that Gerald was being blatantly dishonest and he wanted to know why. Why had he shared the story of his mother's death so freely and only to became close-lipped now? If he didn't want it to be known that he had harmed or killed others with the dark magic Voldemort had taught him, why share that he had murdered his mother at all?

Was it his attempt to spin a sob story? or...Harry's attention flew over to Oliver. Maybe Oliver Smith didn't know as much about his friend as he thought he did. It wouldn't shock Harry to learn that Gerald was keeping secrets even from his closest companion.

"I see," Harry said, taking care to raise an eyebrow knowingly at Gerald. "But you did become a deatheater."

Gerald threw his head back in a chuckle, his arms once more stretching around the unseen bodies sitting beside him. "Fuck. No." He said deliberately and angrily. Assuming the other wizard was aware of the 'death mark' he wore, he pulled his arms into him, rolling up the sleeve on his left to expose the ink there. "This...is mine. Tom stole the design of his 'death mark' from me," he spat with conviction, taking care to stress his distaste when speaking the words 'death mark.' "I had this done shortly after I met him. It is symbolic of the never ending cycle of life and death."

"And the symbol on the the skull?" Harry poked.

"Oh I think you know what that is," Gerald grinned at the auror. "I added that years later."

Harry removed his eyes from Gerald and put them back upon the tattoo. The Deathly Hallows represented mastery over death...a way to live forever. Gerald had placed its symbol on a picture he said represented the endless cycle of death and birth. Several ideas behind why this was done and why it meant so much to the man circled in his head. He leaned forward to look more closely at the tattoo.

"Must be very important to you," Harry mused. "What for you to have such a large and permanent placement of it on your skin."

Gerald's brow furrowed, "Is my taste in art part of your investigation?"

"No," Harry relented, leaning back into is seat. A look at Oliver told him that he was worried with the tone Gerald had returned to. The aurors had picked up throughout this interview that Oliver must have coached his friend against acting certain ways which Gerald either had trouble doing or didn't really care about too much. "Forgive my curiosity," Harry said. "When was it that you and Tom parted ways?"

Gerald pushed his sleeve back down. "It was in the 70s...I can't give you an exact date, but I want to say it was '72 or '73," he had placed the thumb of his left hand over his mouth in thought, "Tom had already become 'Voldemort' by then and had gathered several allies to his...cause," his eyes narrowed. He was staring off into space and his words had become cold. Not in an unfeeling way or even in judgement though. More like the far-away whisperings of a ghost.

"Were you not in agreement to his 'cause?'" Ron asked.

Gerald didn't move other than to briefly curl and uncurl the thumb over his lips. "I don't like the separation of muggles from wizards," he said. "I also don't think less of those without magic or who aren't human. So no," he lifted himself, suddenly returning his eyes to the level of the others in the room. "I was not in agreement. We fought. I left."

The ending to his story was so abrupt, it threw both Harry and Ron off. Looking at Oliver again, he seemed equally confused. "What- uh-" Harry failed in his attempt to keep the story going.

"Ger," Oliver chimed in, "you and Voldemort _literally_ fought, right? That is what you meant before by saying you had never successfully performed one of the unforgivable curses at another time." It was the most Oliver had spoken since Harry and Ron began talking to Gerald. He knew that their interest laid mostly in what his friend had to say. However, he seemed to realize that Gerald had grown weary of the company so he did what he could to speed things along.

Gerald had turned a stare toward Oliver looking at him quizzically? or perhaps critically... Either way, he elaborated, "Yes, we did. I informed him that I was returning to America...that he could keep my friendship, but to never look for my help in _those_ matters. I didn't expect him to leave it as such. Hoped, of course, but...he pulled his wand on me, throwing me against a wall before using the cruciatus curse." Gerald stopped, straightening his back and running both hands through the sides of his hair. His eyes were soft then and stared off into space again, but only momentarily. He quickly eased and returned to recalling the incident.

"I was never as strong a wizard as him or as strong as he had always expected me to become," Gerald admitted in an odd fashion, "But I managed to raise a hand and fend him off long enough to get up from the floor and hit him with an Incendio spell." Gerald huffed, "I really didn't want to hurt him, but...I knew the sentiment wouldn't be returned... So in the brief moments he was ridding himself of the flames, I conjured the killing curse," Gerald paused as he tried to keep emotion from reflecting in his voice. "Obviously that didn't work," he scoffed, looking at his company with an almost apologetic expression.

"He blocked it," Ron surmised, to which Gerald nodded. "Then what happened?"

"I don't remember most of it," Gerald's gaze was downward again. "I do remember a lot of pain...a lot of pain," he repeated in a softer voice. Torturing his own friends and allies was definitely not out of the spectrum of things Voldemort would do, but something about hearing Gerald share how the dark lord had done this to him seemed...extremely horrible even for him. "Days later, I woke up outside," Gerald continued, "I was in the middle of a cemetery. I thought I was alone, but...as I sat up, I heard Tom's voice."

"What did he say?" Harry asked.

"'You can go.' He said 'you can go,'" Gerald let the auror see into his eyes once more. "He said, 'I don't require your assistance any longer...not at present.' I watched him apparate and disappear. Afterwards, I went back to America."

"'Not at present,'" Harry quoted. "What did he mean by that? Did he ever contact you again?"

Gerald shook his head, "No."

It was the truth this time.

"Is that all?" Oliver drew the aurors attention. The inquiry itself seemed rude as if Oliver was annoyed, but his words had been soft. He wasn't aggravated, only concerned for his friend's state of mind.

"Just one more thing," Harry assured him and then looked back at Gerald. "Did you know or were you otherwise ever associated with the deatheaters or other of these 'allies' that Voldemort had?"

"No," Gerald answered as if suddenly remembering something. "Tom never introduced me to any of them. He never brought them around me. I thought it was strange and I did question him about it at one point..." Gerald trailed and Harry once again got the feeling he was omitting something from his story. "He only ever said that it was safer that way."

Oliver looked at his friend then as if the tidbit was new to him as well, but he didn't acknowledge anything to that effect. Instead, he stood and gestured to the door before beginning to walk to it himself. Harry and Ron removed themselves from their seats and followed. Before entering the hallway to leave completely, Harry stopped to say,

"Thank you both for your time. We will be in touch if any further action is needed by the ministry."

"Thank you," Oliver nodded.

The only response the aurors received from Gerald was a hand in the air, once more making a twisting motion as the music in the background got a little louder. A musician that neither Harry nor Ron recognized was singing. It was a male voice vocalizing soft lyrics to a slow rock song. As the two left, the weird and emotional wizard's voice could be heard singing in a strong, but sentimental voice. The song slowly trailed through the hallway...

 _I can't stop the rain  
from falling down on you again.  
I can't stop the rain,  
but I will hold you 'til it goes away..._

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: Just a reminder that this story takes place directly after Harry, Ron, and Hermione graduated from Hogwarts. It's the early 2000s. The song Gerald was singing is 'When the rain comes' by Third Day which was released in 2001.  
**


	11. Chapter 9: The Odd Couple

''So? How did it go?'' Hermione had met Harry and Ron outside in the exact place she had left them. At some point during the three hours the two aurors had been inside the home on Salt Box Road, she had conjured up a small resting spot complete with a chair, a cup of hot tea, and of course a book to read.

Harry and Ron must have somewhat surprised her with their reappearance because she had hastily slapped the novel, _Aleonor,_ closed and jumped from her seat.

Ron glanced back at the residence before answering his wife in a hushed tone, ''Bloody weird.''

''I take it there were no grand revelations,'' Hermione surmised as she started shoving her chair into the purse she carried. The area was still without any activity or else she wouldn't have risked using unrealistic items stored in her purse in the first place.

''More or less,'' Harry breathed. He was looking at the home, but his mind was wandering. He hadn't known what exactly to expect from meeting Gerald and Oliver except that he thought having done so would make him a bit more certain about the situation. And it hadn't.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she finished putting away her chair and stood, ''Elaboration would be nice,'' she muttered while placing the book carefully inside her purse and then throwing the bag over her shoulder. She began walking down the sidewalk, leading the trio back toward the bus stop.

''Sorry,'' Harry apologized, taking a couple of quick steps to catch up with his friends' stroll. He had fallen behind staring at the house, thinking. ''It's just I assumed after actually meeting him and talking to him, I'd have a better sense of him as a person. Not know everything, of course, just...''

''It didn't put you at ease at all about the severity of things,'' Harry gave a soft smile at Hermione's conclusion. ''I'm assuming you did learn something though, granted how long the interview took,'' she continued.

''A couple of things,'' Ron piped. ''Like he killed his mum for one thing.''

''Oh,'' Hermione's reaction was awkward.

Harry turned his head to the side to look at her, '' _Oh_?'' he repeated.

''It's just that...'' Hermione explained, ''I wondered how she had died is all. I wasn't able to find any information on a timeframe or burial.''

The three wizards walked the next few moments in silence. The day was very cool and there was a soft breeze. It would have been extremely pleasant if it weren't for the business at hand. When the end of the road was in sight, Hermione began with follow-up questions.

''With the killing curse?''

The aurors nodded in unison.

''Yeah,'' Ron said.

''Why?''

''Anger issues,'' Harry and Ron spoke together firmly.

''Damn,'' Hermione shook her head. ''I'm guessing this happened quite some time ago? or else you would have arrested him.''

''About a year after he met Voldemort,'' Harry answered, ''so forty or so years ago...out of our jurisdiction...but the thing is...that he did it without a wand... He doesn't require a wand for casting spells.''

Hermione paused, taking in this new tidbit. ''That's incredible. Terrible, I mean, about his mother though. Did he prove it to you?''

''To a degree. No charms or curses. He mostly just proved he was telekinetic,'' Harry said. ''I don't think they were lying about that.''

''You feel they lied about something else?'' Hermione prompted.

Harry sighed. They had reached the end of the road and stopped briefly. He stepped forward to be in front of the other two and turned to face them, creating an close circle with their bodies. ''It's not Oliver. He seems truthful even though it's obvious he wants to protect Gerald, but I got the feeling that Gerald actually isn't being entirely truthful with his friend.''

''I think you're right,'' Ron agreed. ''I don't believe that the time with his mum was the only time he used one of the unforgivable curses either.''

Harry nodded.

''It sounds to me that you _did_ get a good sense of him,'' Hermione interjected.

Harry and Ron exchanged a knowing glance before looking at the witch again. They both shook their heads.

''That's just it, Hermione,'' Harry explained, ''He's so...all over the place that it's hard to grasp any certainty to his character. All we know for certain is that he has anger problems and he does practice magic.''

''Right,'' Ron picked up. ''The guy is so moody, it's like you don't know whether to feel sorry for him or just think that he's a jerk.''

''Okay...but you are both certain that he's not being completely honest, right?'' Hermione asked.

The aurors nodded.

''So then you know he's not fully remorseful,'' she concluded.

''What?'' Ron spoke, but Harry was equally confused.

Hermione tilted her head to the side with a smile, ''If you _know_ he's lying about crimes he's committed, then you _know_ he's at the very least concerned with his safety over anything cruel he might have done. I would say his own safety or that of someone close to him, but there is apparently nobody fitting that description. So therefore you _know_ that he isn't entirely remorseful for those crimes.''

The other wizards were still mildly confused. The redhead opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated. Harry managed to talk instead, ''Okay, and?'' he prompted.

'' _And,_ '' Hermione continued, ''that means that more than feeling sorry for him because things he may have gone through, you should understand that he isn't incapable of committing crimes or harming others especially if it means protecting himself. To him, he is more important than anyone else's suffering.''

Another moment of pause passed as the two aurors contemplated this train of thought. Neither could deny the conclusion. Even in the moments where they were sure of his sincerity, they could now see his own selfish thoughts.

 _'I didn't mean to kill her.'_

The wording of it wasn't the only thing that spoke towards Hermione's surmise. Gerald had gotten up at that time. He didn't take a necessarily offensive or even defensive stance, but the fact that he _had_ stood while everyone remained seated now seemed to show that he felt the need to have 'the upper hand' so to speak should he need to defend himself.

Harry sighed. ''I think that's true. I guess we can just hope that he doesn't have some sort of hidden agenda. If his only concern is his own safety, then he shouldn't be a threat unless threatened.''

Harry thought back to Oliver then. How he had been doing everything he could to keep his friend calm...to keep him of a certain mind and behavior while he and Ron were present... Oliver _knew_ that his friend was of a very defensive nature. That would explain his actions and in turn, those actions further proved what Hermione had said about Gerald.

''Well, we've spoken with him. We have his statement. Now, unless something else comes up, we just wait for more instructions from the Minister, right?'' Ron said.

''Yeah,'' Harry agreed. ''We still have to speak with Professor Karkaroff and Lucius Malfoy. Besides that...it's however the minister says we should proceed...since currently we know of no unanswered for crime he may be involved in.''

There was another brief pause.

"What about Oliver?" Hermione asked somewhat quietly.

"What do you mean?" Harry returned.

Hermione looked awkwardly at her friend and hesitated, "I mean, not that I _think_ there's anything to worry about, but..." she trailed off, her voice and her demeanor making it obvious that she wished she hadn't said anything. Her eyes were flitting nervously away from Harry and toward her husband. "It's nothing. Just a silly thought," she tried to hush her original idea by beginning to walk off again.

The two others followed quickly behind her as she headed for the bus stop. However, it was too late for her not to put further worry onto Harry. Both he and Ron had already guessed the rest of her initial statement.

"I don't know," Harry admitted as the three stopped where the bus would come and then turned down another road into the town. "I was so focused on Gerald... All I gathered about Oliver is that he was a very loyal person and he was truly concerned for his friend."

"He didn't come off as suspicious in any way," Ron added, "not rude or anything else like that either."

Hermione nodded her head oddly. She was being very careful not to say anything else. Her mind was quite overactive. Usually in a good and productive way, but her worry for Harry was at her forefront and she didn't want to add any unnecessary stress...specifically when, like Harry said, there was no actual crime being investigated.

They walked down the streets of the quiet town without speaking any more. The silent plan had been made to apparate back home and they all knew how to go about doing so whilst among muggles. The first empty alley the three came across, each quickly ducked into, one by one, making sure nobody had their eyes on them.

After a short goodbye including a kiss from Ron to his wife and a hug from Hermione to Harry, the three disappeared. Hermione went back to her home and the two aurors appeared just outside the Ministry of Magic. They'd need to get in direct touch with Lucius Malfoy and see if Minister Shacklebolt was available.

Somehow, Harry felt the ordeal with Gerald wasn't going to be as open and shut as he had hoped...and now he was even beginning to suspect Oliver Smith of wickedness...


	12. Chapter 10: Nuance

Monday came quickly upon the aurors. The weekend had been mostly uneventful, consisting largely of sleeping and sharing musings about the case. Minister Shackelbolt had not been yet available for discussion and the only real work that was done was a half-hearted attempt at contacting Lucius Malfoy.

Neither Harry nor Ron really wanted to be at Malfoy Manor again and since both were technically off the clock, felt actually showing up at the residence was uncalled for at the time. Instead they sent an owl and then contacted Draco again when there had been no answer.

Draco enlightened the aurors to his father's aggravation and refusal to waste his time with seeing them, saying that he had already given information on every deatheater and there was nothing more for him to add. It was actually the first bit of good news they'd had in this investigation as at present, they could not legally force a meeting with Lucius.

Harry found himself feeling somewhat more at ease after the busy week and sudden discoveries thrust onto him had ended. With Hermione's awkward reassurances, he began to realize that the intensity of the past several days were working hard against his mental state and there was no reason for him to feel so anxious.

Making his way up the steps of Durmstrang Institute with Ron, his confidence had returned. Neither wizard had ever been to the school or even to the country. It was fortunate for them, though, that the institute was located in Moscow where a vast portion of the population spoke at least some English. There were spells, of course, to help translate scripts into different languages, but largely, no magic had been discovered to rewire a person's brain to understand new tongues easily.

''Where exactly are we going now?'' Ron asked as the two departed from the airport.

The area was incredibly densely populated. Moreso than London even. Just outside of the air mall's doors, hundreds of people and vehicles rushed about in a desperate need to get anywhere fast. Hailing a taxi had to be murder, but they wouldn't have to find out for themselves.

Headmaster Karkaroff had sent word that he would have his assistant meet them at the airport to escort them to Durmstrang.

''He said to look for him outside,'' Harry replied, beginning a slow walk through the muddle of businesspeople, tourists, and vacationers.

''It would help to know what he looked like, yeah?'' Ron scoffed.

Harry kept pushing through the crowd for the annoyed red-head and himself, stopping every so often long enough to scan for anybody staring at them or otherwise appearing to be looking for someone.

''I'm sure that he knows what we look like and will flag is down when he sees us,'' Harry assured his friend.

The two aurors kept this pattern for the handful of minutes it took them to reach the side of the building where the flock of people greatly decreased. Both of them looked from side to side, still searching for their promised aide.

A woman pacing frantically was yelling into a phone in a language foreign to the British wizards. A young teenage couple sat on the curb in a tight side-hug and then on the outer wall of the airport leaned a tall dark haired man in a light brown sweater and black pants.

Upon their notice of him, the man turned his head toward the newcomers and lifted his back so he was standing. He then stood in a strong stance, staring at the two before nodding his head.

Harry nodded back with a small half-smile, turning to make sure Ron was on the same page and then stepped over to the man who was of a very sturdy build and stood a foot higher than either of them. He had a well trimmed black beard but his hair was unruly and pulled back into a ponytail.

''My name is Arkady Kuznetsov,'' the man introduced himself in a thick Russian accent. ''You are?''

''Harry...Potter,'' Harry responded. ''This is Ronald Weasely. The headmaster sent you?''

Arkady nodded. ''Yes. I will take you to him. Come.'' he spoke as he spun around in a rather rigid motion, leading the aurors further off the side of the building.

He took them into what Harry assumed was an employee parking lot. There was next to no commotion although the sounds from the bustle they had left could still be heard. Arkady stopped just behind a row of cars that separated the group from the others beyond. He held out both of his arms to his sides, gesturing for Harry and Ron to take hold, which they did.

The three were sucked into nothingness and spat back out into full form in a matter of moments. Harry and Ron retrieved their arms and studied their new surroundings.

Around them were several large hills and it seemed nothing else. The two guests looked to Arkady for instruction. The man did not speak; he only began walking again. So the aurors followed.

He led them to the opposite side of the nearest hill, where they could see an enormous building situated there amongst the acclivities. It was no doubt a castle but not one akin to that of Hogwarts. Instead, it appeared sleeker somehow. More cleanly constructed with less openings and incaves. It was painted a deep red with black roofs and highlights. There was a treacherous wall surrounding the whole place. All in all, it was quite intimidating.

Harry and Ron followed Arkady to the wall and down it until they reached a spot where the top of it heightened into a tall point. Inside it, they could see people standing and watching them. Arkady stopped at the base of this structure and stood in front of a closed doorway there.

Harry saw some of the people above shuffle around and after a moment the door opened so that the three may pass through. They walked into a small room and out a second door. Beyond which was yet another wall of similar style. These actions were all repeated, finally bringing them to the courtyard and the school itself.

Arkady continued on inside the building, taking the guests down a long, echoey hallway. Harry figured it had to be in between classes since everything was so empty. Even so, the place also _felt_ empty which added to its intimidation factor.

''Here,'' their guide stopped suddenly and turned around. ''Headmaster will be waiting for you.''

Before anything else could be said or done, the man spun on his heels and kept on down the corridor. Harry and Ron turned to look at the small space in the wall where they had halted.

It was a rounded opening seemingly plated with gold. The curve dipped into the wall making a place barely big enough for two people to stand in. Shrugging, Ron waited for his partner to act first.

Harry took the few steps forward into the way. When nothing happened, he turned and looked at Ron. Suddenly, the compartment swirled, nearly knocking Harry off kilter. When it was still once again, the wizard found himself in a new room...an office. And Igor Karkaroff sat alone in the distance, not acknowledging the new presence.

Harry glanced behind him long enough to make sure Ron had also found his way inside before aiming himself for the headmaster.

The room was dark and mostly bare. There were a few chairs and of course the desk full of papers and a random assortment of broken trinkets where Karkaroff sat.

''Welcome to Durmstrang Institute,'' the headmaster said flatly, finally looking at his guests. His face was also expressionless if not a bit angry. This demeanor seemed to greatly contrast the kind cooperation his letters betrayed. Even so, Harry was sure he wasn't being intentionally rude.

''Thank you for seeing us, Headmaster,'' Harry nodded politely as he and Ron took to the seats across from the wizard.

''What is it, exactly, that you wanted to speak with me about?'' Karkaroff continued.

''We wanted to ask if you were aware of any other associates of Voldemort. Anyone that hasn't been brought forward yet,'' said Harry.

Karkaroff paused, tilting his head slightly, ''You're asking me if there are any more deatheaters free?''

''Well not necessarily deatheaters,'' Ron clarified, ''but anyone that Voldemort may have had dealings with.''

There was a pause as the headmaster looked thoughtfully. ''No,'' he finally answered. ''I can't think of anyone alive and not pardoned or imprisoned. Of course, you see,'' he added, ''I can't possibly know everyone he associated with.''

Harry took a breath, ''Of course. Yes, we know. However,'' he reached into his pocket and retrieved the photographs that had not left his person since the start. ''Would you mind taking a look at these and tell me if you recognize this man at all?''

Karkaroff glanced quickly at Harry's hand and then returned his gaze to the auror and nodded. Harry stretched out his arm to let him take the photographs and as always, the aurors watched him for any facial clues to his true thoughts and reaction.

Flipping the photos over to see Gerald, Karkaroff's eyes immediately widened and then squinted, his head tilting again and more obviously. He looked from one to the other a few times before he began shaking his head. He put the pictures down on the desk in front of him. He stayed with his eyes glued to them as he rested one arm on the desk as well, strumming his fingers.

''Yes...I've seen him before,'' his voice was hushed. ''Different hair...less played up look too, but I'm sure it's him.''

Ron and Harry exchanged a quick glance. ''Was he a deatheater?'' Harry pressed.

Karkaroff looked up, ''Certainly not. He was never with any of us...except...'' the man's brow furrowed and he looked away from the aurors and back to the pictures.

''Sir?'' Harry poked quietly.

The headmaster looked up again. ''I've only ever seen him once. In passing. I was approaching a common meeting place for the deatheaters at the time. Lord Voldemort was standing outside with that man...and Lucius Malfoy. I don't know what they were doing or who he was, but,'' Karkaroff lifted his brow, ''I have good intuition. I knew whatever was going on, I wasn't supposed to be there. So I left. Returned later. It was the first and last time I saw or heard of him until now.'' Karkaroff sat back in his chair, pushing the photos across the desk and back to Harry who picked them up and replaced them into his robes.

''I see...'' Harry mumbled downwards at first then put his attention back on Karkaroff. ''You're sure you didn't overhear anything or see anything else?''

''I'm certain.''

Harry nodded and started to stand, ''Thank you for your time. Please alert us if something comes up.''

Headmaster Karkaroff's gaze followed the aurors to their way out, his body remaining still. When the two were almost stepping out, though, he spoke again, ''Is that man still alive?''

Harry and Ron turned back around, hesitating. ''We're not-'' Ron began but was cut off by Karkaroff.

''I know,'' he said, his eyes hovering on the aurors for just a moment. He went back to looking at his work. ''I will let you know. ''

Harry gave Ron an aggravated look and inhaled sharply. Karkaroff didn't need them to answer...he had read their reaction and facial nuances himself.


	13. Chapter 11: Distrust

The aurors let themselves back out of the school in the midst of a class change. When students themselves, Harry and Ron had assumed Durmstrang had been an all-boys facility. During the Tri-Wizard Tournament, only male students came to Hogwarts and they'd never heard mention of any female students from the institute. However, tearing their way through the migrating student body now, there were several teenage girls about.

Harry found it weird that the presence of aurors in the hallway barely caught the attention of only a handful of the pupils. They all seemed so disciplined and focused. It was probably best anyway as it meant less distraction as they pushed their way out of the castle and into the slightly less crowded courtyard.

Outside, the aurors passed by a group of students who had stopped to talk with each other. They all turned their heads and watched as Harry and Ron walked by. It was their whispering that alerted Harry to their stares. Looking up, he gave them a polite nod, but the greeting was returned with nothing but cold and curiously intent eyes. Harry shook his head and put his attention back to the gates of the school.

''Vyperdysch!'' one of the male students called after the aurors as their backs turned to the kids.

Ron looked back to see the teenagers gradually start separating and heading back inside the school. Harry refused to give them any more consideration and instead continued onward to the outer wall of Durmstrang Institute.

''What do you suppose that means?'' Ron asked curiously.

''I don't know. And I don't really care,'' Harry almost spat as the two made some distance between themselves and the school.

''It's alright, mate,'' Ron calmed, seeing that his friend was becoming distressed again. ''There's still no need to worry.''

''Ron, he outright lies AGAIN about his involvement with the deatheaters and Voldemort,'' Harry said.

''Well, yeah, I mean we'd already put together that he was a liar, right? At least about something,'' Ron pointed. ''Like Hermione said, he's probably just worried about protecting himself. I'm just saying that there might not be anything more to it than that.''

There was a pause as Harry stopped and took a few deep breaths.

''No unanswered crime he could be a part of still yet, yeah?'' Ron added.

Harry sighed. ''I guess we have to have a meeting with Lucius for certain now...''

''Ugh, yeah...'' Ron agreed. ''Do you think Draco told him any details? You know that he could identify Gerald with?''

Harry shook his head, looking back to the school now a good distance away. ''I don't know. But I hope that whatever Karkaroff saw...that it wasn't anything too convoluted.''

''Completely,'' Ron chirped, ''Just a chance meeting maybe.''

Harry smiled. ''Well, let's get back to the ministry. The Minister may be about to see us sometime today.''

And with that, the aurors apparatus back to the airport and spent the next few hours on their return flight to London where the Floor Network took them to the Ministry of Magic.

And Harry had been right. Upon arriving back at their office, a note had been left for them. Just as Ron open-ended the door and the two walked inside, the paper laying on one of the desks beyond, floated into the air, folding itself, acting as the lips of the woman's voice that sounded.

The unseen woman announced, ''Misters Potter and Weasely, please see Minister Shackelbolt in his office before the end of day. Thank you.'' The note then promptly flattened itself and returned to rest on the desk once more.

Harry looked immediately to the clock on the other wall. Their travels had taken up most of the day, but there were still a few hours between the official close of the ministry.

Ron shrugged at Harry and turned on his heels, going right back through their door and to the elevator. The trip was silent and quick. When the machine opened again, it let them out into a room lined with the portraits of every Minister that had ever been.

Harry found himself easily aware of Bartemius Crouch's picture. His eyes lingered on the man as his figure swayed slightly in the portrait, his expression remaining stern and professional. Harry would never forget seeing the past minister's corpse while walking in the forest with Hagrid, Ron, and Hermione, the same year Voldemort had returned.

Shaking from his thoughts, Harry turned to face the woman in the desk at the end of the hallway. She had short, curved blonde hair and wore a bright smile painted in rose red lipstick which complimented her blue eyes.

''Hello!'' she beamed as the two came upon her. ''Minister Shackelbolt is free to see you now. You know the way,'' she giggled. It had been her voice in the note.

''Thanks,'' Harry smiled, stepping past her with Ron to stand in front of a black sheet of glass.

After just a moment, the enchanted doorway slid open, revealing the minister. They stepped inside and took a seat.

''I hope your trip today went smoothly,'' Shackelbolt greeted.

''Yes, sir, it did,'' Harry smiled.

''So you've been able to speak with Gerald and his counterpart?'' the minister continued.

''Right, and also with Draco Malfoy and of course Igor Karkaroff today,'' Harry answered.

''Hm. I've read your reports thus far. Did Karkaroff have anything to add?'' Shackelbolt put his hands in a pyramid in front of his lips in a contemplative stance.

''Only that he saw Gerald once, in passing, with Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy,'' Ron said.

''Hm. I don't see any reason to disbelieve that,'' the minister mused. ''So it seems our friend Gerald has a propensity for lying.''

Harry and Ron nodded and Harry spoke, ''We wanted to mandate an interview with Lucius, but I don't think it will go anywhere.''

''It won't,'' Minister Shackelbolt agreed. ''Nonetheless, it's proper procedure.'' He paused for a few moments. Suddenly, he removed his hands and placed them back onto the desk. ''After you've talked with Lucius, I want you to visit Gerald again...but don't let him know of anything the others have said about him.''

''On what grounds will we be seeing him then?'' Harry asked, unsure of the minister's line of reasoning.

''His wandless magic, of course,'' Shackelbolt grinned. ''Something so unusual needs to be learned about...studied.''

''So it's just a valid excuse to keep an eye on him and maybe put together some details?'' Ron surmised.

''Indeed,'' the minister nodded.

''Don't you think that that will be obvious to him?'' Harry questioned.

''Oh I'm sure it will. It's thin enough,'' said Shackelbolt, ''but there's no refuting it either. The first thing you need to do is register him. He lives here now; he's a wizard. That means he has to abide by our laws. Be patient with him though. If he avoids peaceful requests, it will only give us fuel to make sure he remains peaceful himself.'' The Minister leaned forward and looked intently into Harry and Ron. ''MACUSA might have let him slip through the cracks, but we won't. Whether he turns out to be harmless or not, I don't like him. And I definitely don't trust him.''

Neither auror could disagree with Minister Shackelbolt's feeling. Even though Gerald had not seemed all in all a despicable person when they had met him, his actions did color him as untrustworthy in one of the worst ways...the one that suggested he was a dark wizard.

Harry sent an owl to both Draco and to his father, informing them of Lucius' now legal requirement to meet with them. The minister had even signed off ordering him to come into the ministry. Kingsley Shackelbolt was well aware of the young aurors' apprehension about returning to Malfoy Manor. Even though he knew they would carry out their duties successfully regardless, he also knew it wasn't necessary to throw them into some situations when there was a viable alternative. Especially when Lucius also knew this about Harry and Ron and would have no qualms in using it against them.

The last thing they did before leaving the office was call Gerald's residence and leave a message with Oliver for him to come in for registration.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Vyperdysch is a Russian insult meaning 'someone who thinks they are important, but in reality is not.' The literal translation is 'someone who appears out of farting.' LMAO You're welcome for that tidbit :P**


	14. Chapter 12: The Unspeakable Croaker

Oliver had assured Harry whilst talking with him over the phone that Gerald would come to see them the next morning although he questioned their means of processing him. Wizards were registered with the ministry through their wands and therefore their wands were their ID. How would the wandless wizard fit into this system?

Harry had explained that they would simply assess his claims and his abilities and go from there. Oliver seemed dissatisfied with the answer, but didn't press any further. Harry asked him if he would be accompanying Gerald. To his surprise, the man had replied with a no and an excuse of somewhere else he had to be. It actually pleased the aurors to know Gerald would be coming alone. Without his friend's watchful eye, they might get a better idea of the weird wizard.

As Harry and Ron tidied the office, setting things in place for Gerald's arrival and testing, a knock came on their office door.

''Bugger's early, isn't he?'' Ron complained, walking toward the door and opening it.

But it wasn't Gerald Davis that was behind it. It was a man that neither auror had seen in years.

''Professor Croaker,'' Harry spoke, startled. ''Um, how can we help you?''

The tall man stepped into the room, barely smiling at the young wizards. He was getting well on with age, but remained a prominent unspeakable working within the Department of Mysteries.

''Good morning, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasely. I haven't seen you since that horrible mess you and your friends made in the prophecy room,'' the man smirked.

Harry remembered the day well. They had been trying to retrieve the prophecy of the chosen one- the one speaking of himself and Voldemort- and had been ambushed by the deatheaters. It was the day Sirious Black had died...Harry's only remaining family.

''Right, sir, we apologize for that,'' Harry offered absent-mindedly, his brain replaying the last time he had seen his godfather.

''Water under the bridge,'' Croaker smiled. ''At any rate, Minister Shackelbolt asked me here. My department is intrigued with this Gerald Davis you've discovered.''

''You mean the wandless magic?'' Ron guessed as he left the door and rested against the front of his desk.

''Precisely. No human has ever been capable of such a feat. Elves, Goblins, Veela...species like those perform varying degrees of magic without a wand's aid, but never a human.'' Croaker pulled an empty chair from the wall beside him and took a seat. He rolled into a position where he could face both aurors. ''If this _is_ true about him, we have to keep it under wraps.''

Harry and Ron were confused. They looked from the unspeakable to each other and then back, waiting for him to explain.

''Imagine, if you will," the man picked up on their disorientation and continued, "that it became common knowledge that there was a wizard capable of casting spells wandlessly. It would create pandemonium. The danger to him and the general public would increase needlessly as everyone would want answers. Some may even see him as a threat and demand justice...by the law or by their own means. Including non-human magical creatures. If they felt that wizards were becoming even more powerful, they may feel the need to fight against further subjugation of their people. We can't risk such an uproar or even, perhaps, civil war," Croaker pointed determinedly.

"How are we supposed to keep this quiet, then? Obliviate him?" Harry asked, feeling an odd need to defend Gerald against such treatment.

"No," Croaker replied, "We need to figure this out for the good of magical understanding and the contribution it could have toward bettering our world. We can't begin to understand it without his cooperation. I have a much simpler solution." The man looked down at his robes, opening them, and pulling out a wand. It was very plain. Straight, smooth, and of a light brown color. Possibly made of oak.

"You want to give him a wand?" Ron surmised, lifting his butt from his desk and carefully taking the wand from the unspeakable.

"Yes," Croaker agreed, "for show. Gerald will be ordered to keep his wandless capabilities a secret. If he needs a reason to satisfy selfishness, it will be to keep himself safe from the non-accepting masses."

Harry nodded, "Do you think he'll cooperate with helping you understand his powers?"

Croaker tilted his head and shook it once, "You tell me. You know more about him than I do."

"Hm," Harry cleared his throat, "His personality and his agenda is hard to gauge. At least it has been so far. I feel like he would cooperate with you on the surface even if it is with Oliver Smith's pushing him to do so. But I don't know how helpful he will actually be."

Just as Croaker and Ron started to nod in agreement, another knock sounded. Croaker spun around in his chair as Ron once again opened the entrance.

Gerald Davis stood there, his white hair wild, the bangs covering one eye in the signature style Harry had gotten used to seeing. The one bright blue eye that showed was covered in dark makeup and he wore a black dress shirt, vest, and pants to match. His hands were at his sides, thumbs in pockets and his lips held no expression.

"I'm here," he said in a moderate tone.

"Come in, please," Harry gestured.

Gerald looked to his side where Ron stood still holding the door, staring at him as he stepped inside and then watching the red-head close it behind him. Ron stepped awkwardly back toward his desk as the wizard's eyes fell from him and to Harry as he began speaking once more.

"Thank you for coming. I'm sure your friend told you why we asked you in?"

Gerald didn't answer at first. Instead he took his time letting his eyes scan around the room and from person to person. It at first seemed that he was simply being rude, but after a moment, Harry was sure he was only getting his standing in a place strange to him. Everyone had already pegged him as possibly a bit paranoid. Instead of trying to hurry him along, the aurors and the unspeakable stayed put and waited. Finally, Gerald put his head slightly to the side and responded.

"Yeah, he told me what you said," he took his left hand from his side and reached it to scratch the back of his neck. "So what do you want?"

The wizard's words were antagonistic. However, the emotion behind them was soft. Paranoia or curiosity or both.

"Well, you've met Ron and I," Harry continued, "This is Saul Croaker." The unspeakable nodded his head. "We need you to perform a few spells for us so that we can-"

"Make sure I'm not lying," Gerald finished for the auror. "I get it." There was a pause as he looked intently into Harry's eyes out of the corner of his own. Suddenly, he looked away and spoke again, "What spells?"

"Let's start small," Croaker said as he rose from his seat. He passed in between Harry and Gerald and picked up a blank piece of parchment from the desk. "Set it on fire," the unspeakable commanded, holding out the sheet.

Gerald's eyes flitted from Croaker to Harry and then to the piece of paper held out in front of him a few feet away. He shrugged and lifted his right hand, quickly throwing two pointed fingers at the parchment and mumbling, 'Incendio.'

Red energy sparked at his fingertips and immediately the paper was ablaze. In rapid succession, he repeated the action instead saying, 'Aguamenti' and just like that the fire was gone, put out by a sudden spurt of water from the wizard's hand. It all happened within a moment, too quickly for the others to react.

Harry, Croaker, and Ron then tore their attention from the paper and put it back on Gerald who shrugged his shoulders at them. "Next?" he said with a smirk.

The unspeakable squinted his eyes at the man and set the wet, charred parchment back down. "Transfiguration," he used the single word as a command.

Gerald's eyes grew soft and his smirk became a small, sweet smile. He held out his right hand to Croaker, palm up. "Orchideous," he whispered softly.

The three ministry employees focused on the outstretched hand and watched as a small bouquet of daffodils sprouted from the palm. When they finished growing, Gerald twisted his wrist to clutch them by the stems. His smile hadn't faded and he flashed it at Harry and Croaker before turning slowly and offering the flowers to Ron. The red-head, startled, glanced at his allies behind the wizard and then nervously stepped forward and grabbed them.

Harry had expected the white-haired wizard to change them into a spider or something else to mess with Ron. But he didn't. He only turned back around and waited for someone to speak. His smile was gone and the smirk had returned.

"What about the Patronus Charm?" Harry mused, his eyes intent on Gerald, who flinched at this suggestion. Harry's brow furrowed when he saw this fleeting change in the wizard's demeanor. His eyes narrowing and watching Gerald even closer, he couldn't pick up anything else to explain why the name of the spell had thrown him off...however momentarily it had been.

"Sorry," Gerald sighed, his smirk gone and face once more void of emotion, "I can't cast a patronus."

"Hm," Croaker interjected, "What advanced spells can you cast?"

Gerald narrowed his eyes at the unspeakable, not missing a beat, "At least three."

And there it was. Harry had been waiting for that sly part of the man to show again. The part that obviously found it amusing to show his distaste and even his apathy towards the magical system of separating light and dark magic, condemning dark as evil and nothing more. He had figured without his social guide present, Gerald would slip up and show that side of him that Oliver had been trying desperately to hide.

"I see, but of course you're forbidden from performing them," Croaker's voice instantly became cold. He broke Gerald's gaze and turned, walking until he was standing beside Harry and facing the desk behind the auror.

Harry calmly twisted his head to the side, his eyes both on Gerald and on what Croaker was up to. He saw the unspeakable pick up a photo frame and paper-weight shaped like a stag that Ginny had gifted to him when he first began his investigative career. The man clutched the items and took a deep breath in.

Croaker then abruptly spun, chunking the two items at the suspicious wizard without any warning or hesitation.

Gerald's eyes widened as he threw both his arms into the air, each hand with pointer and middle finger aimed at the small stag and the photograph. He yelled, "STUPEFY!" and stopped both items mere inches from his hands.

The unspeakable's actions had caused Harry and Ron to jump as well and both had retrieved their wands and stood with them readied at Gerald as soon as he had reacted. The three of them stayed exactly so for several moments, unmoving. All eyes were focused on Gerald whose, in turn, darted between the two aurors.

At last, he exhaled, lowering his hands to his sides once again, letting the items thrown at him hit the ground. His breathing had picked up to a degree high enough that Harry could see his chest heaving. The auror watched the man's obvious attempts to stay relaxed. The deep breathing, his hands clenching at his sides, his rapid blinking...

Harry then lowered his own weapon with Ron following suit. He looked at Croaker again. The wizard was rubbing his chin, eyes on the man he'd attacked. Was he trying to get a rise out of Gerald? Harry didn't know how unspeakables generally conducted their business, but he was adamantly against such antagonistic tactics.

"Professor? I don't feel that was necessary," Harry reprimanded while trying to stay calm himself.

"Maybe not," the unspeakable dismissed the concern, "At any rate, you've convinced me," he spat at Gerald, who had managed to get at least some control back.

"Hmph," Gerald grumbled. "So now what?"

"Now, you take this," Croaker stepped forward, the wand from before in his hand. He handed it off to Gerald, who took it cautiously, staring at it in disgust.

"Why?"

"The Ministry of Magic is ordering you not to allow others to know of your wandless capabilities," Harry spoke quickly in an effort to diffuse the situation.

Gerald looked up at Harry, a mixture of anger and confusion spread across his face, "I can't use a wand. I've tried."

"Well, we don't really expect you to use it. Only pretend to," Harry kept his voice polite and sincere as it was obviously working to quiet the disconcerted wizard before him.

Gerald's head fell back down to the wand, "I understand... Don't worry, I have no desire to call on the attention of any more wizards or witches..." he murmured with the same odd sadness he had had in his voice when telling the story of his mother. Then he was looking at Harry again, complacency returned.


	15. Chapter 13: A Chance Meeting

"Good," Croaker smirked himself then, "And we expect your cooperation while we learn about this unusual power of yours."

Gerald tilted his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. His hand suddenly grasped at the wand that he now held carelessly at his side. "It's not like I can say 'no,'" he spat back.

Harry was growing increasingly aggravated with the unspeakable's needlessly hostile attitude. Nobody in the room particularly cared for Gerald, but blatantly treating him like an enemy was doing no one any favors.

"Thank you, then," Harry said awkwardly, but in a soft voice. He gave Gerald a smile when he had put his eyes on the auror.

To Harry's surprise, the wizard actually returned it. A sincere smile, nonetheless. The shifts in his personality were throwing Harry off kilter again. The small instances where Gerald seemed kind or sad kept making the auror second guess their assumption that the man was disagreeable or even evil. And when that happened, he immediately wondered if those things were trustworthy or part of some mind game. At the end of it all, what Harry knew for certain was meeting with the wizard and attempting to read him was completely frustrating.

"What else do you need from me today?" Gerald spoke in a moderate tone to Harry, but his eyes had shifted to watching Croaker.

"I believe that is all," Harry smiled again at him before reluctantly turning to Professor Croaker and adding, "Unless there is something you have?"

"Hm. No, nothing right now," the unspeakable gruffed, "but expect a visit from me soon to continue all this."

"Just you?" Gerald faced the wizard, his voice sounded combative.

Croaker straightened his back and lifted a brow, "Is that a problem?"

Gerald grinned, slowly closing and then reopening his eyes, "No, I just think things would go more smoothly should the aurors here assist."

The unspeakable kept his strict gaze on the strange wizard as Harry and Ron exchanged a glance. "That's actually a good idea," Ron squeaked, calling all attention to him. "I mean both our departments are supposed to be working on this and all... It'd be less things repeated and surely less frustrating for you," he threw the last part in quickly with a hand motioning at Gerald.

"I agree," Harry said. "Is that suitable for you?"

"Hm. Certainly," Croaker relented, "But I have to ask," he pointed at Gerald, "Why did _you_ want this?"

Gerald looked at the unspeakable with a serious expression and responded with a flat voice, "Because I don't like you."

If it hadn't been for the man's shadowy past, his dark leanings, and his unusual power contributing to the energy of the scenario, Harry felt it would have been comical. However instead, it came off as a threat.

"You're not scaring anyone," Croaker returned, getting closer to Gerald, who shrugged.

"I wasn't trying to scare anyone. Just answering the question."

Seeing the two wizards in a sort of stand off was weird. Saul Croaker reached a height of over six feet while Gerald Davis couldn't have been taller than five foot seven at best. And even though the two men were close in age, the unspeakable appeared vastly older. Thinking about it made the situation seem surreal.

"Well, thank you again for coming," Harry stepped in. "We will be in touch."

Gerald looked to the auror and smiled before nodding and turning toward the door where he gave Ron a polite nod goodbye as well. He held his hand out to the entry and the door swung open. At first, the three ministry workers assumed he had opened the door himself until it cleared to reveal none other than Lucius Malfoy.

The suspected dark wizard stared at the deatheater for a brief moment before stepping to the side to get out of the way, planting himself so close to Ron that the two were almost touching. Lucius' eyebrow raised as he watched after Gerald. The aurors and the unspeakable seemed to agree without conference that they would remain silent and see if anything came of the situation.

So they all watched. Lucius' eyes bore into Gerald for a period long enough to make anyone uncomfortable, but Gerald appeared unfazed. He kept his posture relaxed, face without expression, and eyes resting on the deatheater, occasionally blinking. Lucius didn't show signs of anything other than his usual misplaced arrogance and finally, he removed his attention from the other white-haired wizard and turned to face Harry.

"After all that I have done to aid the Ministry, this is the treatment I get? Being forced in when I already informed you that I knew nothing else about this matter?" the man brought the cane from his side and rested his hands on it in front of him, letting it _thud_ onto the floor.

Gerald had stayed in his position, keeping eyes on Lucius while making Ron uncomfortable with his close proximity. Harry stole the moment just in time to see a toothy grin crawl onto Gerald's face.

"What a dick," Gerald said loudly and it looked like he was holding back laughter.

Lucius immediately scowled, twisting to face the man and growling, "Do you have something to say to me?"

"Yeah," Gerald's grin grew, "I just said it."

Lucius immediately raised his cane and stepped toward the man, mouth open and ready to rebut. Harry could see Ron's anxiety increasing as he tried to back away from the two but was incapable. So Harry threw himself into the middle.

"Gerald, we need to speak to Mr. Malfoy privately," he remained calm.

"My apologies," Gerald responded, sarcastically placing a hand over his heart. He let his vision linger upon Lucius for a moment before dropping his grin and walking beside him to exit the room. The moment he was out of sight, the door flew shut.

"Hmph!" Lucius brushed off his shoulder with the back of his left hand as if wiping away the altercation with Gerald.

"I'm sorry about that," Harry said reluctantly.

"Indeed," Malfoy muttered.

The sudden introduction of the two wizards before them had taken Harry by surprise. He had barely managed to catch even a few clues from the scenario, but nothing to really suggest that the two knew each other. Maybe Ron caught something, although he doubted it with how upturned he had been basically being caught between the two.

"Mr. Malfoy," Harry started. "Are you absolutely certain there was no one else you knew to have associated with Voldemort on a somewhat close level? Deatheater or not."

"Why do I have to keep repeating myself?" Lucius grunted.

Harry glanced over at his partner who had mostly recovered, but not enough that he acknowledged Harry's look. "Have you never seen him before? The man that just left."

Lucius' eyebrows furrowed and he sighed angrily, "No. And it will be lucky for him if I never see him again."

Harry, Croaker, and Ron were all staring at Malfoy then, all trying to figure out the same thing: What had been his relationship with Voldemort's student? Karkaroff had no reason to lie about seeing them together, but the two certainly were inimical towards each other. They didn't appear to have been familiar with each other during the scene yet Lucius' threat spoke more deeply. It didn't seem natural for even the vile wizard that he was to take so heavily against a stranger with an offhanded and extremely general insult. Especially when appearances would tell Malfoy that the man was no older than his son...barely an adult.

"Fine then," Harry ended the session quickly, "Sorry for wasting your time."

"Hmm," Lucius glared at Harry and Croaker, then shot an intimidating glance at Ron, who nervously shifted his stance. Lucius picked up his cane and paraded back out of the office, his coat _whishing_ through the air as he turned and followed down Gerald's path.

"That was quick," Croaker stated. "He might even catch up with Gerald."

"That's precisely what I was thinking," Harry grinned.

"Bloody Hell, you want us to go after them?" Ron whined.

"There's a good chance that they will meet up out there. If we lie low, we might be able to catch something of interest about them," Harry explained.

Ron sighed, "Yeah, you're right."

The unspeakable let out a soft laugh as he too went for the exit, "Well, it sounds like you boys have work to do. I'll leave you to it."

Harry and Ron stepped after the man, peeking out into the hallway and watching him stroll to the elevator which Lucius had apparently just boarded. Croaker slowed his pace just enough to give the machine time to whoosh Lucius away. When the deatheater was out of sight, Harry and Ron skipped several strides to gain footing with Croaker and the three got into the elevator together.

Croaker let the aurors go to their destination, the Atrium, first so they wouldn't lose any time. When the doors slid open and they departed, he gave them a smile and a wave before the machine was off once more.

Harry quickly spotted Lucius at the fireplaces in the distance. Maybe he wasn't following Gerald. Gerald would have had to use the visitor's entrance. The abandoned red telephone booth that acted as a secret lift from an old London street down into the Ministry. The aurors made a few swift paces to get closer to Malfoy before dropping their speed and hanging back far enough that they wouldn't be spotted.

Lucius stopped at one of the chimneys and looked into it for a few moments before suddenly looking off to the side and altering his trek. He went straight for the red booth in the far corner that was identical to the one exposed to the muggle world above. Seeing the haughty wizard place himself inside the box was funny to the aurors. Ron accidentally chuckled out loud, gaining a light backhand to the chest from Harry as the two lunged forward to use the elevator as well. Malfoy was well out of range of vision prior to them doing so.

Harry and Ron quickly boarded and rode upwards on the somewhat raggedy machine. As they did, Harry produced his cloak of invisibility from within his robes. Instinctively, he and Ron spread it over themselves, finishing just when they reached the surface. Scanning to make sure nobody was looking first, the two wriggled their way out of the box and into the street.

Lucius was walking casually on the opposite sidewalk.

The aurors creeped quickly, but carefully until they were a few feet behind the wizard. When they were, they caught sight of Gerald sitting on a bench down the way, arms resting on the back of the seat to his sides and eyes staring in front of him. He was surely there waiting to see if Lucius to catch up to him.

As the deatheater and the hidden wizards approached, Gerald cocked his head to the side, lifting both eyebrows, "Lucius."

The pure blood wizard stopped in front of the man and turned to face him, hands resting on his cane again, "Hm...It's nice to see you...alive."

Gerald grinned, "Wish I could say the same."

Lucius immediately frowned, "Come now, there's no need for that. Do you have no respect for an old friend?"

Gerald opened his mouth like he had a retort, but instead of speaking it, he bit his lip and turned his head to the other side, "What do you want, Lucius?"

"To be perfectly honest," the deatheater smirked, "I want a reason to keep my mouth shut." Gerald's eyes shot back to his past acquaintance. "I know what you are and I know what you've done," Lucius put his right hand up in the air as if to symbolize indifference, "Why shouldn't I share?"

"The question is, why have you not shared already?" Gerald pointed.

"Well, there was never a need. Had I known you were still living, I would have in a heartbeat," Lucius snapped.

The wizard on the bench tilted his head. "So what now? You're wanting my help or something?"

Malfoy's hand returned to his cane and he grinned, "Having you as an ally in...let's just say, a venture, would be highly beneficial."

Harry and Ron were doing their best to remain still, to keep their breathing low, and not show any outward interest in the events unfolding before them for fear of being discovered. But this sudden turn in the case had them reeling inside. The succinct silence they endured eager to hear a response from Gerald seemed an eternity.

"How about this," Gerald lifted his arms from the bench, pushing his hands against his knees to reach a standing position. He closed the small distance between himself and Lucius and looked directly into the deatheater's eyes with what Harry could only describe as menace.

"I know where your son lives and I know where your wife sleeps," his abrupt, cold words chilled both the aurors.

Ron barely kept himself from swallowing. Harry's eyes widened. Even when Gerald had been antagonistic or rude or even apathetic in other situations, Harry had NEVER felt such cruelty from the man...and the feeling led him to believe that Gerald couldn't possibly be bluffing.

Lucius was obviously shaken by the man's commination as well. He at first stepped backward, his stern expression failing, but then suddenly dropped his cane, pouncing forward with his hands grabbing his opponent by his shirt.

Gerald remained calm and refrained from reacting. Lucius held his grip for only several seconds before letting go and clearing his throat. He leaned down and swiftly retrieved his walking stick from the ground. He gave one last look at the other wizard. It was a glare, but it was weak. Lucius Malfoy left the scene, Gerald Davis watching for only an instant before he turned the other way and began walking off as well.

He passed so closely by the aurors, that the moving air caused a fold of their cloak to sway slightly.


	16. Chapter 14: Any Excuse

''Are you absolutely sure?''

''Hermione, we're not misinterpreting the situation,'' Harry insisted, ''He was definitely threatening Lucius.''

''Yeah, obviously,'' Ron agreed. ''I mean if it weren't clear by what Gerald said, Malfoy certainly made it so by grabbing the guy.''

Hermione's eyes were still wide with the news. She covered her mouth with one hand and shook her head, ''Sometimes I hate when I'm right about things...''

''No kidding,'' Ron mumbled, then mouthed an 'ow' when his wife gave him an aggravated shove.

''I don't know though,'' Harry carried on. ''Maybe he was bluffing.''

''Doesn't seem to me,'' Ron said.

Harry and Hermione looked intently on the redhead. ''Why not?'' the other auror asked.

''Well,'' Ron's voice cracked, ''from what they said to each other, it felt that they had been more than acquaintances, yeah? So wouldn't Lucius have known if it was a bluff or if he was actually capable of doing something like that?''

''Ronald's got a point,'' Hermione turned back to Harry, who nodded.

''Yeah... Lucius' reaction was pretty odd too... He's not the type to just lash out like that without doing some real damage...''

''Right. That bothered me as well... Moreso, though,'' Hermione continued, ''is what he said. ' _I know what you are and I know what you've done.'_ What do you think he meant? I mean obviously something wicked, probably to do with Voldemort-"

"Probably?!" Ron interrupted with exasperation, but his wife ignored him.

"However, he's had no real associations with the deatheaters, the people closest to Voldermort, except Lucius Malfoy and that obviously wasn't a good relationship...so what could it have been? Especially if we are to believe that Gerald and Voldermort did cut ties around the time that he claims they did..." Hermione trailed.

"Well obviously trusting anything that Gerald says is not the way to go about things," Harry growled back.

"Relax, mate," Ron calmed.

"Sorry...it's just this whole situation is so maddening," Harry sighed, "I hate that we keep finding out that Gerald is lying to us. I really wanted to believe his story...and that he was at least mostly innocent," the auror admitted.

"I know," Hermione placed her hand on his shoulder, "None of us wanted to think that anything involving Voldemort was still going on."

A solemn silence settled upon the room as each of them recalled all of the treachery perpetuated by the dark lord or in his name. So many innocent people killed...so many lives disrupted or even ruined... Even their young lives, especially Harry's, had been filled with terrible turmoil because of the dark wizard. Voldemort's final demise had only been three years prior and the magical world had only just begun to start recovering.

"I still stand by my suspicion that Gerald is most concerned with his own safety," Hermione was the one that finally spoke, "Everything about his actions, the lack of criminal activity, even his lies- they all support the idea that he's more defensive than offensive."

"You don't think that Gerald is the type to harm anybody without being provoked?" Harry inquired. "Tell me honestly."

The witch shook her head once, "I don't think so, no. But...I also sense that he may be the type to feel provoked easily..."

"Yeah, especially if he's drunk or something," Ron muttered.

"Yeah," Hermione sighed, "Unfortunately."

Another, more awkward silence fell.

"Hey, well, how is Ginny doing?" Hermione broke the quiet again with a smile, "She's due back in what, about a week, right?"

Harry grinned, "Yeah, I talked to her earlier this morning, before work. She sounded in good spirits. Everything's been going smoothly on her end, it seems."

"Have you been telling her about all this shit with Gerald?" Ron asked innocently, but immediately realized that his wife had been trying to steer the conversation away from that topic when she gave him a scowl.

"No," Harry replied softly, ignoring the two's dynamic. "I didn't want to upset her... We'll talk when she gets back." He was leaned forward in his chair, elbows on knees and his hands grasping each other as he looked down at the floor.

"That's understandable," Hermione soothed and then, giving up on changing the subject, added, "If it helps, at least he's not lying about his disagreement with Voldemort."

Ron turned to his side to face his wife with a puzzled look. Harry pulled his head up, wearing an equally confused expression.

"If he did subscribe to Voldemort's ideals, he wouldn't have kept himself living as a muggle. He certainly wouldn't associate so closely with them," Hermione explained.

"Brad Angston," Harry murmured.

"Who?" Ron and his wife asked simultaneously.

"The other member of Gerald's and Oliver's band. I looked them up online. His name is Brad Angston," Harry clarified.

"Oh right, yes, that's what I meant," Hermione went on, "Musicians like that stay pretty close with each other. Especially the ones that go on tour as _The Devil's Children_ does...or did, I guess. At any rate, Brad's a muggle and is closely associated with Gerald."

" _The Devil's Children_? Blimey," Ron said.

"That's my point," Harry continued, ignoring his friend's criticism, "They _had_ to be close...how much do you think Brad actually knows?"

Hermione glanced from Harry, to her husband, and back, "You mean about his friends being wizards?"

"Yeah. And anything about Gerald's past. According to everything we know, he knew that Gerald and Oliver came to Britain from the beginning...before anyone else," Harry reminded. "That would suggest they were even close enough to share the knowledge of magic with him, wouldn't it?"

"Well, yes, I suppose it would, but," Hermione spoke confusedly, "I don't see how he would know anything more than Oliver. Gerald is obviously closer to him than with Brad. I mean, he came here with Oliver, not Brad. Brad didn't even come at all."

"I think we should talk to him," Harry decided suddenly.

"Haven't they already done that though, mate?" Ron pointed.

"Yeah, but they did so under the assumption that he didn't know anything of the wizarding world," Harry answered. "Bear with me, guys. What if Oliver was the one to accompany Gerald here only because he's a wizard? and because he's from the UK? Not to mention his entire family has a clean history with Magical Law Enforcement. If that were the case, Gerald _could_ actually be closer to Brad and just using Oliver as a sort of cover. Maybe someone to make him look good or help him with the magical world's system of doing things here."

"I hadn't thought about that possibility," Hermione mused.

"Being a muggle, Brad wouldn't ever be able to out Gerald if he knew something about him," Ron interjected. "If he told MACUSA, he'd be obliviated and if he told muggle police, he'd just sound crazy and it'd definitely put him on Gerald's bad side."

"But what about telling Oliver?" Hermione inquired. "If he did know something bad about Gerald and couldn't come forward on his own, why wouldn't he just talk to Oliver so he could take care of it?"

"I don't know..." Harry paused, thinking. "Gerald threatening him? or just him generally being afraid of Gerald depending on what he knew."

"Or for all we know, Brad's the evil one," said Ron. "We haven't dealt with him at all...looked into him at all...We wouldn't have any clue if he were or not."

Harry and Hermione nodded.

"It's true," Hermione agreed, "Either way, I definitely wouldn't put it past Gerald to manipulate someone like that."

Leaning back in his chair, Harry reached a hand to his chin and rubbed it, contemplating. After a few moments, he stood up and walked over toward the phone that rested on his desk on the wall opposite where his friends were sitting. He picked it up, dialing a number within the Ministry. It was early enough in the evening that employees would still be available.

"What're you doing?" Ron called over to him.

"I'm getting a number to reach Brad on," Harry answered as the phone began to ring.

"Harry, what is it?" Minister Shackelbolt's voice sounded on the other end with a hint of concern.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Minister, but Ron and I were talking and we've decided to contact Brad Angston," Harry spoke quickly to ensure that the man knew nothing was wrong. In any other case, he would just contact the department of records or general information instead of contacting Kingsley Shackelbolt directly. However, since they were playing so close to the vest with this one, only the two aurors, Saul Croaker, the minister, and of course MACUSA knew anything about any of it.

"Brad. The third member of Gerald's band?"

"Yes, sir."

"You think he knows something, then?"

Harry hesitated, "We think it's possible."

"Hmm..." the minister thought, "it's funny you should call now. I just finished reading the report you sent me." He was speaking about the interview with Gerald and the altercation between him and Lucius afterward. "I don't like this at all. I don't want him to have any room to breathe, you understand? Press him as hard as you can. I don't want him to have any time to even think about starting something."

"Sir," Harry protested, "It seems to us that doing that would only push him into acting out."

"I'm aware that you feel that way. Even so, I want the two of you stuck to him. The moment he gives you any excuse- even the tiniest thing, arrest him," Shackelbolt commanded.

"Yes, sir," Harry relented.

"As for Brad," the man on the phone continued, "I have a number from the file that MACUSA sent over. It's for their band's agent. That should lead you to him."

"Thank you, sir," Harry nodded even though the wizard couldn't see him.

The auror quickly jotted down the digits given to him and hung up. He then immediately dialed it and waited. He turned toward the couple sitting on the couch, resting his back against the wall next to the phone and the desk it was on. The phone rang three times before a woman picked up on the other end.

"Joyce Letterman, Publicist and Agent. To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with today?" Her voice was overly enthusiastic and sounded extremely fake, but Harry ignored the annoying chipper attitude and carried on.

"Uh, yes, this is Harry Alderman. I was looking to get in contact with one of your clients, actually," the auror replied.

"That is great to hear, Mr. Alderman. Unfortunately, I'm not at liberty to give out my clients' personal details. However, if you would like to leave a message with me, I can inform them of it immediately."

Harry paused, thinking as he cleared his throat. "Thank you," he continued in his 'business' voice, "If you could tell Brad Angston that Harry in London was looking to speak with him concerning his friends Oliver and Gerald, I'd be much obliged. Please stress to him the urgency of the situation."

"I certainly can do that for you, Mr. Alderman, but may I ask if you are in contact with Gerald Davis and Oliver Smith?"

Harry shot a baffled glance at his friends before answering her, "Um. Yes, I am, actually."

"Well then," her cheeriness peaked, "You will be pleased to know that Mr. Angston has recently taken a vacation and will be visiting with his bandmates."

Harry's eyes widened, causing Hermione and Ron to exchange glances.

"Oh, I see. Alright then, thank you for your help," he told the agent.

"Of course, Mr. Alderman. Don't hesitate to call again if you should have any questions or concerns. Have a wonderful evening."

 _Click_. Joyce Letterman hung up quickly, leaving Harry awkwardly removing the phone from his cheek and replacing it on the desk.


	17. Chapter 15: Awkward

Saul Croaker's specialty within the Department of Mysteries was time magic. Time travel, skipping timelines, anything to do with the alteration of time. In a vague theory, Ron had surmised that he was working with them on Gerald's case because the dark wizard's youthful appearance could be due to some sort of time disturbance.

Harry didn't mean to dismiss his partner's idea because for all he knew it was correct. However, he had told the redhead that it was probably simply because they had known Croaker prior to everything.

And it came out a little more harshly than he meant too. The discovery that Gerald was indeed wicked had Harry quite on edge. Perhaps not as uptight as dealing with Voldemort himself during the auror's school years, as he'd had time to mature and grow more used to handling dark wizards, but on edge nonetheless.

''Yes, I don't see why not,'' Oliver replied through the telephone. ''If you will, give us an hour before you show? My friend's not quite used to early rising.''

''Sure,'' Harry agreed. ''We will see you at ten. Thanks.''

''Of course,'' the man on the other end said politely before hanging up.

Harry sighed as he put down the phone and turned to the unspeakable who had entered the office during his conversation. Croaker was carrying a brown leather briefcase and wearing a hat and coat to match. The auror found himself intrigued to see how the man would go about learning the workings of Gerald's gifts. He wasn't alone either.

''So, uh, what exactly are you going to do?'' Ron asked the unspeakable as soon as Harry had turned their way.

''Different things,'' Croaker cleared his throat. ''Tests of any physical factors he may have contributing to his abilities. Some arithmancy, some divination...''

''Arithmancy?'' Harry repeated looking at Ron, ''Didn't Hermione study that?''

''Well yeah,'' the redhead responded sarcastically, ''but what hasn't she studied?''

Harry laughed, ''True.''

''It's a very specific form of wizardry with a very broad range of uses,'' Croaker cut back in, ''A lot of magical folk put it down, saying it's focus is on a more muggle subject of knowledge, but there is a lot of power to be gained from studying numbers and sequences. It's especially helpful when constructing original spells."

"Huh," Ron responded in an almost apathetic tone, gaining a raised eyebrow from the unspeakable.

"I'll admit I don't understand how that works," Harry said, "but I'll be interested to see what happens."

Croaker smiled at the dark-haired auror.

"What of divination, though?" Harry continued. "From what I've been taught, there's not an exact science to it. Pardon that wording."

"No, there isn't," the unspeakable agreed. "However, my department will want to try and read Gerald anyway. No stone unturned, you know."

Harry and Ron both nodded as Harry's eyes trailed off to the clock. A quarter hour had passed since speaking with Oliver. Croaker's eyes had followed the auror's. Clearing his throat again, he grinned and went on.

"Well, you have ten minutes or so before we'll have to head out. Better get all the questions out of your head now. Don't want you appearing ignorant," the unspeakable chuckled.

He didn't say it as an insult and the aurors knew precisely what he meant. If they came off as unknowledgable of what he was going to do, it would present as a weakness and of course no, none of them wanted that. Obviously, they couldn't go into much elaboration right then, but going in completely blind was not preferable. They at least had to hold an idea of the proceedings beforehand.

"You said you were going to test his physical attributes?" Harry inquired next, "Like studying his blood or something?" Harry was aware that there were spells to identify things such as family members and magical leanings through blood. Even muggles knew the value of studying the liquid although their approach was much different. He had just never witnessed it or delved into it more.

"Good guess," Croaker smiled. His joy of teaching was showing from the years he had been a professor. "I'm sure you are aware of revelio charms, yes?" the man paused until he received nods from both aurors and then he continued, "Just as you can find concealed objects with the spell or even with 'homenum revelio,' people can be revealed, there is a similar charm that my department is quite fond of. 'Sanguis Revelio,'" the unspeakable paused again, this time with only the aurors' confused glances as a response. "It detects properties in the blood that we cannot easily see or even that have been purposely hidden."

"What sort of properties?" Harry furthered.

"All sorts of things. A generalized, basic study of blood can tell if a person is a wizard or muggle. Can tell us about their family and even their species. However the sanguis revelio charm digs deeper. It shows what field of magic the wizard or witch is most suited for, if they have a leaning toward the use of light or dark magic, how magically active they are... It can sometimes even reveal their true mood."

"Blimey," Ron blurted. "How come we've never known about this?"

"Well, Mr. Weasely," Croaker said matter-of-factly, turning toward the redhead, "The department of Mysteries is very mysterious itself. A lot of what we do and what we know never leaves from within its walls. At any rate," the unspeakable glanced at the clock again before spinning on his heels and beginning their trek, "It's time to go."

The trio of Ministry employees arrived at the residence on Salt Box Road several minutes before the hour, but they didn't wait to approach the home and knock on the door. Oliver, of course, was the one to answer again.

"Good morning, Harry, Ron...uh Mr. Croaker?" he greeted politely, though not cheerfully. The unspeakable nodded. "Come right in, please," Oliver added, stepping to the side to let the three through the door and then closing it behind them.

"Your friend's not an early riser, then?" Croaker smirked as they walked down the hall.

"Uh, no. Most concerts go on during the evening. Ours almost always have," Oliver explained. "He's too used to the schedule."

"But you're not?" Harry asked as they came to the main room where they first met Gerald. The wizard was not in sight.

"I spent a lot of time on my grandparents' farm growing up," Oliver smiled. "I suppose I never broke from that schedule myself." He motioned broadly to the room, "Please, uh, make yourselves comfortable. Wherever will be best for..." the man trailed off awkwardly.

"Thank you," Croaker didn't skip a beat as he made his way to the the bundle of chairs in the middle of the room, dropping his briefcase in the air to float beside him and then opening it to pull out a square table approximately four feet in diameter.

Harry and Ron looked around the room and even back down both ends of the hallway.

"Is he still sleeping?" Ron piped.

"GERALD! GET YOUR ASS IN HERE!" Oliver suddenly yelled after sticking his head into the hall. He then faced the aurors again. "No, he's awake. Sorry about that."

Oliver's character seemed off. Not entirely different from previous encounters. He still came off as a calm, intelligent individual, but it seemed that something was bothering him...something more than just the investigation into his bandmate that they had picked up on before. Harry's best guess was that Gerald was aggravating his poor, loyal friend.

"I'm here," Gerald's voice came down the corridor as he descended the stairs at its end. He spoke in the same complacent tone as he had when he'd said the exact same words to greet the aurors and Mr. Croaker back at the ministry. He walked in with his hands intertwining by the fingers sitting atop his head, elbows at points to the sides. He stopped moving when he stood directly between Oliver and the two aurors, without obstructing their view of each other.

"Mr. Davis, good to see you again," Croaker spoke to the new arrival, but his gaze was still upon a the vials and a couple other instruments that Harry didn't recognize that he had just produced from his briefcase which was now resting on the table.

"It's Gerald," the dark wizard sounded annoyed with the formal use of his surname. "Just Gerald."

"Well, Jerry," the unspeakable straightened his stance, finally looking at the wizard. Harry barely kept from shaking his head at the friendly shorthand because he knew Croaker had only used the nickname to annoy the blue-eyed man. "Come over and we will get started."

Harry heard Gerald emit a growl under his breath as arms dropped to his sides and he walked toward the unspeakable. "What do I do?" he asked.

"You just sit," Croaker commanded, staring almost cruelly at him.

The dark wizard ignored the gaze except for raising his brow before he sat in one of the tall chairs next to where his adversary had set up his table and equipment. He sat back in a relaxed pose, legs comfortably apart, with hands resting on his lap, and watched as Croaker pulled his wand from his robe.

"Wait," Oliver spoke abruptly, gaining the ministry workers' attention before turning to his friend, "Is that guy still here?"

The aurors and Croaker removed eyes from Oliver and placed them back onto Gerald, whose demeanor was unwavering.

"What guy?" Harry asked.

Almost in response, loud, quick footsteps sounded from behind them. Someone was coming down the stairs. Harry and Ron were the only ones still with an easy view into the hallway. A medium-skinned and shirtless man at the very most in his thirties thudded his way toward them, his head down as he began to speak, "Hey sweetheart, I-" he cut himself off mid-sentence as his head rose and he saw the group of men in the den. "Oh. I-uh..." he looked around at everyone before awkwardly making his way through them to Gerald. The unspeakable smoothly lowered his wand to his side, assuming that the man was, in fact, a muggle.

He stopped at in front of the makeup-clad man and leaned down to hug him. Surprisingly, the dark wizard reciprocated the embrace. The scenario had the aurors puzzled, but Croaker seemed to be following along well with the dynamic judging by the smirk on his face. Oliver, again, looked frustrated.

After their hug, the shirtless man stood straight and continued his original thought in a more hushed and awkward voice, "I can't find my top," he brought his arms to his chest, curling them into it as if suddenly he was ashamed of being half-naked.

"Here," Gerald stood, lips widening into a grin as he took off his own black shirt. "Just take this one."

"Aw," the other man tilted his head to the side as he took the shirt. "Thanks, hun." He quickly dressed himself and spun back to face the three wizards at the hallway. "I, uh...well, bye!" he gave one last, cute look at Gerald before leaving the room again, this time going out the front door.

Harry caught a glimpse of Oliver with his palm over his eyes as the auror looked back at Gerald. The dark wizard was still beaming then, but his expression became solemn again as he sat back down.

"Have a good night, did you?" Croaker still wore a smirk.

"I did, thank you," Gerald replied thickly, coming to the full realization of the unspeakable's subtly combative attitude when dealing with him.

Oliver sighed loudly beside the aurors, "I'm going to get the coffee..." he muttered as he left them to go to the kitchen Harry could barely see at the opposite end of the living space.

Ron shot a look at his partner then, mouthing the rhetorical question 'he's gay?' without realizing that Gerald's eyes had settled back upon them from his chair beside Croaker.

"No, _he_ is not gay," the dark wizard smirked, "I'm up for anything." Gerald stressed the last word, making the aurors feel as if he was hinting about 'anything' the ministry had to throw at him.

The response left Harry and Ron without knowing how to react. Fortunately, Croaker stepped in for them, his wand raised once more. "Then lift your arm," he ordered, "Whichever one is most prominent," he added.

Gerald turned to the unspeakable again, squinting his eyes as if contemplating his next move. After a short moment, he lifted his right arm. Croaker took a step back, aiming the tip of his wand at the inner bend of the wizard's elbow. 'Diffindo!' he said with an almost imperceptible flick of his wand.

A small cut, maybe the length of a bottle cap appeared on Gerald's arm. Once again, Harry detected the wizard's breathing change into a more rapid pace. The charm Croaker had used was a simple one, taught early to Hogwarts students, but it could also easily become a severe, even fatal attack. It was known as the 'severing charm' and could do just that to a body's limb or head...granted the caster was experienced enough to put the proper amount of power behind it.

"Didn't hurt at'all," the unspeakable took a moment to look directly into the seated wizard's eyes and smirk again. Harry saw a flash of anger cross Gerald's face before he turned it abruptly to the side, silently attempting to calm himself.

Croaker then returned to his task, aiming the wand at the cut he had made.

'Sanguis Revelio.'


	18. Chapter 16: Necromancy

Harry and Ron watched as Croaker lifted a small stream of blood from the wound he had made on Gerald's arm. The white energy around the tip of his wand flowed in a circle as if in a liquid state as well. Looking at the blood itself, occasional flickers of white and black energy could be seen throughout it.

The unspeakable kept his gaze upon the now floating pool of red intently as if it were whispering to him words only he could understand. And that's precisely what the aurors assumed was happening.

Oliver had returned with a pot of coffee and mugs, setting them down quietly atop the television stand on the wall between Croaker and the aurors. He then stood to the side of it, watching the proceedings before him.

Even Gerald himself seemed enthralled with the magic being performed and Harry found himself studying the wizard's curious expression as if he'd already forgotten his distaste for the Ministry employees. The auror had to remind himself that besides his years learning from Voldemort, the dark wizard had next to no experience with the magical world...with other wizards at all, really.

After several minutes passed without anyone speaking, not even Croaker to share how his work was going, Harry and Ron stepped over to Oliver, each grabbing a cup and fixing themselves some coffee. Oliver did the same, the three wizards drawing Gerald's attention briefly before he sighed and put his eyes back on the caster still toying with his blood.

Sipping at his hot drink, Harry glanced over everyone in the room and came to the conclusion that they were all eager to know if the unspeakable had discovered anything yet.

However, Gerald wouldn't ask because that would blatantly show both interest and ignorance. Neither auror spoke for the same reason they had tried to learn about the new magic earlier that morning before leaving for the dark wizard's residence. That left Oliver to say something which, finally, he did. However, he turned to the aurors for enlightenment as to not disrupt the working wizard.

''What exactly is he looking for?'' Oliver asked in a somewhat quieter tone than normal.

''Oh,'' Harry did his best to seem well acquainted with the magic being performed, ''Mr. Croaker can detect many things from Gerald's blood that could help us better perceive what gives him his unique capabilities.''

Oliver sipped from his mug, his lips curling to the side like he was fighting to understand, ''Like what? I've never seen spellwork like this...''

Professor Croaker cleared his throat suddenly, interrupting the strained conversation, much to Harry's delight. ''Well, for one,'' he spoke as his intense stare broke and he shifted Gerald's blood into one of the glass vials propped up on his table, ''the study of wizardry that a person is most suited for. That always leads to a better knowledge of someone.'' He had sealed the vial and lowered his wand again.

Gerald glinted at the man before wiping the stray blood from his arm and bending his elbow a few times and then resting the arm in his lap like the other had been.

''You could tell Ger's strongest form of magic from that?'' Oliver rephrased.

''Hm...'' Croaker nodded at the man before turning and facing the dark wizard again, who had stayed in his seat. ''Necromancy is not an art the magical world thinks too highly of,'' he narrowed his eyes at Gerald, almost growling.

''Necromancy?'' Ron squeaked.

Oliver laughed suddenly, the sound feeling awkward against the otherwise solemn air in the room. ''Gerald's good at raising the dead? Right...'' he laughed again.

Harry knew, however, that Croaker wouldn't be joking around. Neither was he inept at what he did. The mention of the uncommon magic in a serious matter did have Harry in wonder though.

''That is a common misconception, Mr. Smith,'' the unspeakable clarified, eyes shifting back to him. ''In reality, raising the dead as anything more than inferi, animated corpses, is impossible within our realm of capability.''

Harry recalled then his first experience with the undead creatures known as the inferi. He had aided Albus Dumbledore on a quest to recover one of Voldemort's horcruxes, the locket of Salazar Slytherin. Deep inside the cave where they thought it was hidden, Harry made the mistake of touching the murky lake therein and alerting the creatures to their presence. They were terrible, mindless beings that mostly looked like emaciated humans crawling about and screeching.

Oliver had retreated from scoffing, placing his mug down and crossing his arms. ''So what is it actually?'' he inquired politely this time and Harry barely caught wind of the quick, distrustful glance he shot at his friend.

''Necromancy, at its base, is a form of divination,'' Croaker continued, ''It revolves around communication with spirits in order to pull power from their energy. Necromancy can be used in multiple ways from creating potions to performing curses.''

''If that's all it is,'' Oliver furthered, ''Why does it have such a bad reputation, as you put it?''

''Because,'' the unspeakable put eyes on Gerald again who had held his glare the entire discussion, ''Most wizards who invoke the skill, misuse it. Instead of working _with_ the spirits of the dead, they take control over them and abuse them selfishly for their own desires. This has even led to grave robbing, mistreating corpses, and otherwise disrespecting the dead. That is why, though technically not a dark art, it can easily be judged as one.''

The man fell into an abrupt silence, his and Gerald's eyes locked as the aurors' and Oliver's attention alike rested on the two. At last, Gerald responded to the accusation.

''I've always had a talent for divination, I'll cop to that,'' he lifted an eyebrow, ''and like you said, the evil associated with necromancy has nothing to do with the communing with spirits itself.''

There was another, smaller pause.

''Indeed,'' Croaker mused, taking his sights from Gerald and looking back to his table. ''How old are you?''

Gerald tilted his head to the side with an odd look, ''Seventy-four...'' he answered immediately but with a tone matching his expression. ''Why?''

''Curious,'' the unspeakable responded.

Harry couldn't tell if the man meant he had been curious of Gerald's age or if he was stating that the interrogated wizard's answer was curious to him. Gerald, however, apparently assumed the latter.

''I can't explain my appearance,'' he said, watching Croaker closely and shifting in his chair. ''I _can_ tell you that I have not purposely altered my appearance or my body. And certainly not through abusing spirits. ''

The unspeakable seemed to ignore this continued dialogue as he fidgeted with one of the instruments on the table that Harry surmised to be some ancient version of a calculator.

Gerald removed his attention from his detainer and stood from his seat, stretching his arms above him. He then let them drop back to his sides before stepping to the other end of the wall that Oliver rested against, remaining within close proximity of Croaker.

The movement reminded Harry that the wizard had removed his shirt to give to his...guest before the start of this session. The clear age gap between the two men would have been a larger thought in his mind if it weren't for Gerald's youthful looks.

Besides, Harry found himself concerned instead with the scars now clearly visible upon the pale man's skin.

On the top of his chest on either side, were countless white lines spreading both horizontally and vertically across his breast from one arm to the other. The coloration and the thinness of them denoted that they had been both shallow and uncared for.

Lower on his abdomen, however, was a wide, almost purplish colored scar that stretched from one hip and just past his belly button. Although it was large, there were several smaller, dot like scars alongside the original wound. Having grown up in the muggle world himself, Harry recognized the tiny spots as being created by staples, a muggle procedure of closing wounds.

Hands with thumbs in the pockets of his black jeans, Gerald halfway displayed the tattoo on his arm. The one that had originally been related to the death mark. He saw something there that the photograph still in his robes didn't show.

Bumps.

Underneath the design, were raised areas of skin in long, even patterns that could only be the remnants of scars from many years in the past.

Gerald leaned forward at that moment, catching onto Harry's studying him. He didn't say anything. He just stared at the auror, expressionless.

''What happened?'' Harry asked confidently and curiously.

Croaker looked up from what he was doing, Oliver turned away from the unspeakable, and Ron had already been watching Gerald with his partner.

Gerald took a breath in, ''Got into a fight,'' he answered vaguely.

Oliver cleared his throat, ''Gerald, pissed off some skinheads in a bar who left him bleeding out in an alley,'' he pointed angrily at his friend.

Gerald lifted a hand and literally brushed Oliver off with it, his friend, in turn, giving an exasperated sigh.

''Are you done?'' Croaker gruffed.

''What do you want now?'' Gerald growled.

''Just need some dates,'' the unspeakable glared. ''When did you kill your mother?''

The wizard had asked for this grim detail so nonchalantly that the dark wizard stilled. ''Uh...it was late '61,'' even his voice had grown soft.

Croaker fidgeted with his tool again. ''And that was a year after you met Tom Riddle?''

''Yeah...''

''What year did you part ways with Voldemort?'' the unspeakable kept the questions coming on a steady beat.

''1973,'' Gerald's face showed confusion again.

More fidgeting before the next question, ''Your band formed?''

Gerald suddenly bit his lip. Harry could tell he was fearful of what the wizard might be piecing or trying to piece together about him. Nonetheless, he answered, ''Officially? Seven years ago so...'94.''

''How long before that did you meet the other members?''

Gerald glanced at Oliver and motioned a hand toward him, ''We met in 1993. I met Brad in 1991.''

The unspeakable nodded to himself, inputting information on the archaic equivalent to a computing device he'd been working with.

Harry exchanged a glance with Ron. Gerald knew Brad two years before Oliver. This fact strengthened Harry's theory about their friendship so he took advantage of the muggle's name being mentioned.

''What of your friend, Brad, anyway?''

Gerald turned his focus to the auror, ''Excuse me?''

''I was just interested in knowing what you two plan on doing. You know, as far as work goes,'' Harry played the innocently curious role well. ''Without Brad with you, you can't very well continue on with your band, right?''

Gerald took in a breath, his posture, his expression, everything about him loosening. Harry could feel his relief at the change in subject. Beyond that, he was unsure of whether the dark wizard had any inclination of their suspicions regarding his muggle friend.

''Brad is actually on his way overseas now so we can discuss it,'' Oliver explained.

''Oh, okay,'' Harry smiled, ''Does he know why you two came here?''

Both Gerald and Oliver flinched.

''We're not MACUSA,'' Harry calmed, ''If Brad is that close to you and he's not causing a problem, we don't care if he's aware of your magical status.''

What the auror said was mostly true. The Ministry of Magic forbid relinquishing magical knowledge to muggles. However, there was also more leeway with obliviation decrees. For example, Harry's nonmagical aunt had known about his mother being a witch. In turn, the man she married and their son Dudley also knew about wizardry even though they were muggles. It wasn't doing any harm so the Ministry wasn't concerned with it.

''Yeah,'' Gerald spoke. ''He does.''

''Hm...''They all turned to see Croaker had packed up his things, ''That'll be all for now. Thank you for your cooperation.''

Oliver nodded at the wizard, but Gerald just stayed, crossing his arms as he watched the unspeakable walk to meet the aurors at the door. Croaker grinned at them before passing by and continuing on to exit.

''We look forward to meeting your friend,'' Harry smiled and added a 'thank you' as the two aurors ducked out after their older partner.


	19. Chapter 17: Results

''At the very least, it made him seem like a slapper,'' Ron concluded.

Professor Croaker had taken the two aurors to his office within the department of mysteries. Not usual procedure, but he felt the delicacy of this particular case warranted an exception. Croaker also knew the young wizards' upstanding characters, that they'd pose no direct harm, and would handle matters with caution.

While the unspeakable had been emptying the contents of his briefcase again, Harry and Ron had begun conversing about the meeting. Harry started by mentioning Gerald's scars. Oliver explained the one on his stomach he had apparently gained getting drunk and losing his temper, but it was really the ones on his chest and under his tattoo that interested the auror.

One of Harry's first cases involved a young squib who had been beaten by her father after her mother's passing. The wizard had always rejected his daughter due to her lack of magical ability. However after her mother's death, when the girl was only eleven, the man became abusive. That time would have been when she'd be getting ready to attend her first year at Hogwarts had she been born a witch. Her father used magic to torture the poor girl in order to highlight in her mind how pathetic she was for not wielding magic.

This had gone on for almost three years before the Ministry was able to save her and prosecute the evil wizard. She was fourteen when Harry first talked to her. Like many mistreated muggle teenagers, she had taken to self-harm. It was a heart breaking case, but fortunately she was placed with a loving magical family and from what Harry had been told, she was adjusting well.

The numerous, smaller scars Harry had witnessed on the girl looked exactly like the ones on Gerald's chest. It made him ponder when and why the wizard had cut himself as he could think of nothing else that would make so many wounds like that other than Gerald's own hands.

''I guess it does if he didn't mean anything more by it,'' Harry responded, ''But just saying that he's up for anything the way he did made me feel he was talking about more than his sexual ventures.''

''Maybe,'' the redhead relented. ''Either way, it's odd an odd time for him to worry about his, you know, _personal needs._ What with the investigation, things with Malfoy, and whatever else we don't know about yet.''

''I know part of your job is to investigate all details, but would you to rather talk about what I've found now rather than that miscreant's libido?'' Croaker interrupted the conversation when he'd finished with his things.

''Of course,'' Harry spoke quickly coming to the realization that how the unspeakable described it was exactly what the aurors' discussion boiled down to.

''What did you learn besides the necromancy?'' Ron asked, leaning forward onto the long table where he and Harry sat.

''His blood is very strange, indeed,'' Croaker carried on. ''I can't quite put my finger on it. But it's...it's just different than any other wizard I've ever seen.''

Harry leaned forward as well to put greater focus on the unspeakable who was holding the vial of Gerald's blood. ''Different like stronger or?''

The man shook his head, ''No...more like...inhuman. But I am at a loss for anything else it could be. The differences that make it seem to belong to another species don't match any other race that we know.''

Harry found the discovery unsettling yet somehow fitting. ''His parents were human though, right?''

''Gellert Grindelwald,'' the unspeakable's tone became more grave, ''was definitely a human, yes. The mother? I couldn't say with absolute certainty anything other than she obviously appeared human... Proper aging and all.''

''That doesn't really even matter then if she is,'' Ron surmised. ''I mean, if she appeared as human as any other, finding out she wasn't wouldn't help you discover what the species was, right?''

''Hm...'' Croaker seemed annoyed by the conjecture. ''No, it wouldn't. At this point, I'm going to work under the assumption of his humanity. Try to identify these properties through varying criteria to see if perhaps they relate to something else entirely and are just presenting oddly.''

''Ron and I will carry on with the possibility in mind, then,'' Harry nodded. ''What else?''

''He has a definite dark leaning. A strong one,'' Croaker said, ''No surprise there. He's also a very, very angry person. His emotion was the first thing I saw. I couldn't help to...'' the man seemed discomforted by the memory of what he saw in the dark wizard's blood.

''We've already learned about the problem with his temper,'' Harry interjected. ''He has a drinking problem as well and I think...those scars on his chest... I think he did that to himself.''

Croaker stared at the auror for a moment, taking the information in. Harry didn't understand why the wizard's emotional problem was bothering the unspeakable so badly. But something was clicking in the old man's mind.

Croaker looked away from him then and grunted, ''At any rate, he's unstable and that is extremely dangerous in a wizard with his darkness and capabilities. Although...'' he looked back at the aurors, rubbing his chin with one hand, ''His blood also shows that he's not very active with magic. Actually, the exact opposite.''

Ron glanced at Harry before speaking, ''You're saying that he hardly uses magic?''

Croaker nodded.

''Well could that be contributing to his powers?'' a theory suddenly hit the dark-haired auror. ''Keeping his magic from being stressed...could it be-''

''Like stockpiling?'' the unspeakable stopped him mid-thought. ''Magic is a skill that needs to be practiced, not an item that will wear out from too much use,'' he debunked. ''If anything, not staying active with it would make a wizard less capable.''

''That makes sense,'' Ron mulled.

Harry sighed, ''Yeah,''

''Now I don't have time to explain the math exactly,'' Croaker furthered, ''but studying the magical energies around the dates I gathered from him and other prominent dates involving Voldemort, specifically as they relate to Gerald, I detected heavy and sparatic fluctuations.''

The aurors exchanged glances and then rested their eyes on the unspeakable again.''And those mean?''

''Just that his use of magic has been few and far between, but exceedingly powerful when used. The largest spikes in his magical time line have occurred between the year of his mother's death...and 1981.''

The man paused, allowing the date to settle into Harry's mind. It didn't take long. Gerald had lied to them again? He told them straight out that he'd left the dark lord's side in 1973. Why would he lie about those 8 years? What was the point?

''The year Voldemort killed my parents,'' the auror spoke in a hushed voice.

''Wait a minute, though,'' the red head thought aloud, ''Are you assuming that Gerald's only ever used his full strength when with Voldemort and never for anything else?''

''All I'm saying, Mr. Weasely,'' Croaker barked, ''is that before he learned magic from Voldemort, there aren't any spikes. And there have been next to none after the dark lord's body died attempting to murder Harry. Infer what you like.''

''Blimey, the bastard lied again,'' Ron complained.

''But why?'' Harry spat with frustration. ''There is literally no point. Being absent those few years doesn't make him seem any less guilty. So why?''

Croaker pursed his lips, giving the boy a few moments to relax before he spoke again. ''That's on you to find out,'' he said. ''But there was one more thing I wanted to let you in on before we part ways today.''

''What is it?'' Ron asked curiously.

''It's regarding the necromancy. Judging from your lack of understanding on the subject, I'm sure you aren't aware of this either, but...horcuxes were originally created by necromancers.''

Both the aurors' eyes grew wide. That...that was insane. Gerald Davis... _He_ was the reason Voldemort had become immortal?

''You think Gerald made the horcruxes for Voldemort?'' Harry exclaimed, looking from the unspeakable to his partner who literally couldn't speak at the moment.

''I do. Horcrux require a great amount of skill to create, which of course, the dark lord had. However, knowing that no-one other than necromancers centuries in the past have ever successfully produced them, knowing that Gerald was involved with Voldemort, and now aware that his most suited study is necromancy... I can't deduce anything other. There are too many contributing factors.''

Harry's mind was flooded with different thoughts and visions. He'd already learned not to take anything Gerald said as fact so now he wondered if his appearance _was_ due to necromancy magic. Had the strange wizard even made his own horcruxes to achieve it? Was he planning some horrible genocide? Possibly of the wizards and witches who had forsaken him? Or even just to merge their two worlds? Following in the footsteps of his teacher, Tom Riddle?

Harry's train of thought changed as he repeated Voldemort's original name out loud, ''Tom Riddle.''

The unspeakable raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms and watching the frazzled auror.

''What?'' Ron asked quietly.

''Voldemort learned about the existence of horcrux magic when he was still in school...several years before he disappeared to America,'' Harry explained the train in his head. ''Isn't it odd that after learning about them, he just happens to go to America looking Gellert Grindelwald's son who is a natural necromancer? Especially with it being such a rare study?''

''You're thinking Voldemort had this information on Gerald beforehand ?'' Croaker summarized the theory.

Harry nodded, ''It would seem so. But how? Outside of speaking with Grindelwald himself perhaps?''

''I don't know how possible it would have been for such a young, unaffiliated Tom Riddle to gain access to Grindelwald's prison,'' the unspeakable mused, not ruling the chance out.

''Or Dumbledore,'' Ron's addition to the current discussion seemed misplaced and he quickly gathered the feeling from the baffled looks on his partner's and the unspeakable's faces. ''Well, he was close friends with Grindelwald long before he was locked away, right? He might have known something.''

The other two men felt a bit daft for not remembering the detail.

''I really don't think Albus Dumbledore would have shared that sort of information just to satisfy a student's interest,'' Harry pointed.

''Well, no,'' the redhead agreed, ''but he still may have known something. Voldemort was smart...he could have stolen a memory or something. Too bad all three of them are dead now though. If anything like that still existed, it'd be much harder to find.''

''Yeah, and there have been very few personal items of Voldemort's recovered,'' Harry thought. ''We could contact MACUSA though I'm sure they would have shared anything pertinent with us.''

''Then I guess that leaves you to call on Aberforth since I don't see Gerald sharing anything of his father's _if_ he happens to have anything,'' Croaker concluded.

''Right,'' Harry nodded. ''Looks like a trip to Godric's Hollow is in order then.''

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: 'Slapper' is a derogatory term used in the UK to identify a person as promiscuous (Americans would say 'slut,' 'hoe,' 'whore,' 'cum dumpster').**


	20. Chapter 18: Getting Serious

The day had started quite abruptly and far earlier than usual. Harry had awoken to the sound of his phone ringing. It was not even five in the morning when he had fumbled through his den and to his desk to answer it. On the other end, a patrol officer informed him of an attack that had taken place...

In Guildford.

Harry's heart skipped a beat when given the address. The assault had occurred only blocks from Salt Box Road and the official residence of Gerald Davis. Magical Law Enforcement Patrol had officers working undercover within muggle law enforcement departments in order to keep an eye out for incidents with magical involvement.

That morning, the Guildford Police Department had been alerted to the presence of a body on the north end of Tangley Lane. Upon arrival at scene, an undercover witch determined that there was probable cause for suspicion that a magical creature had been the reason of the attack.

She had immediately called for backup from Magical Law Enforcement who responded quickly to aid in the obliviation of the muggles involved and in securing the area through the use of the 'cave inimicum' spell along with 'repello muggletum' to dissuade any non-magicals from coming around.

Harry, being the current head auror of the investigations department, was next to be notified. Knowing that his partner was married to an officer in the Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, the woman on the phone had asked Harry to have Hermione accompany them as well when he informed Ron.

The three, startled by the suddenness of the day's beginning, threw themselves together and apparated to Guildford as close to the crime scene as possible. Tangley Lane seemed as quiet as Salt Box Road had stayed when they arrived around an hour later. The sun had only just started to rise.

A man, not much older than the trio themselves was standing on the sidewalk beside a stop sign where the Lane ended. He was wearing brown slacks and a white button down shirt with a business style black jacket over. He watched Harry and the others as they approached.

''Good morning,'' he tipped an imaginary hat at the aurors. ''you must be Hermione Granger,'' he smiled, ''I've heard good things.''

'Thank you,'' Hermione replied. ''It's a pleasure to meet you.''

''This is Timothy Zudd,'' Ron spoke, mostly to his wife.

The woman nodded before jumping right into work, ''You think a magical creature made the attack?''

''Well, that's what you and the aurors will determine,'' the man turned, leading the way down the road, ''but it doesn't appear to be the work of any spell or potion.''

''Has the body been identified?'' Harry asked.

Timothy took a few more paces before stopping and turning back to face the group. ''It's here,'' he said, pulling out his wand, the other three doing the same.

They simultaneously used their weapons to cast disillusionment charms upon themselves before stepping inside of the barrier hiding the crime scene and the other officers from prying eyes. The disillusionment charm didn't make them invisible; it worked to make them more chameleon like. When they were done, Timothy began talking again.

''We have. We're doing what we can to keep the victim's identity a secret until more is known and Minister Shackelbolt can release an official statement. You'll understand in a moment.''

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all took the man's words with much concern. Usually when this was the case, the victim was a prominent member of society, whether magical or muggle. That or a member of previously feuding groups such as different families or races who shared a hatred for each other and had acted upon those feelings before.

As they pierced the wall of energy, three other officers appeared. There was a witch and a wizard standing side by side, hovering over the victim and another man taking photographs.

Harry found his heart racing as he approached them, barely catching their attention as his eyes rested on the white-haired man dressed in black laying there on the ground, motionless.

His stomach sank.

The wizard was definitely well known in the magical world. Lucius Malfoy lay with his formal clothes torn and tattered and still wet with his blood. His throat was slashed open in four deep cuts, painting the white skin around it red. His signature cane had been thrust into one eye and stood straight upward from it, otherwise undamaged.

The aurors and their partner stood in shock as the view sunk into their senses. Harry found himself staring into the death eater's uninjured eye which rested facing the sky, devoid of all life.

Hermione was the first to crouch beside the slain death eater, gathering her wand and using her witchcraft to carefully move the broken skin on his neck and studying the wounds.

Harry turned to the man and woman already on site, ''Have you found anything else?''

''Only his wand. There,'' the wizard pointed to the other side of the body. About a foot or so away, Lucius Malfoy's wand lay, completely intact. ''Nothing else. No prints, no markings, no stray items,'' the man continued. ''The wand confirmed his identity.''

Then the witch chimed in, ''We've already tested the vicinity for any remnant of magical essence as well. They also yielded no results. Someone has done well in covering up.''

''Which is confusing,'' Timothy had joined the conversation. ''It would take a wizard or another very intelligent magical creature to perform spells to successfully cover their presence. But,'' he looked down to where Hermione had began studying the eye holding Lucius' cane, ''That wasn't done by a wand, was it?''

Hermione shook her head and stood, ''No, it's impossible to remove every trace of energy from wounds as grave as this...'' she finally looked from the body to the other wizards. ''Yet, there's nothing there either. It had to have been done by a beast or being or...''

''Or what?'' Ron pushed when his wife trailed off.

''Or someone's bare hands. Bare, mind you,'' she added, ''Meaning without a wand. Maybe some sort of knife?''

''A muggle couldn't have covered their essence from the scene and why would a wizard not use their wand?'' the other witch pointed.

''Lucius was far too strong to be overtaken by a muggle or by in unarmed wizard anyway,'' Harry agreed. ''However, if a wizard attacked him, he could have used his wand to disarm him and then used some sort of other weapon to actually kill him.''

''Yeah, maybe even to confuse law enforcement,'' Timothy said. ''Or to make the attack more personal.''

''Hermione? Does it match any non human creature that you know?'' Ron asked.

His wife shook her head, ''It's similar to a werewolf, but no full moon last night...''

The sun had almost finished rising as the group quieted in contemplation of the scene they gazed upon. Harry's eyes were on the wand. It was as if Lucius dropped it when whatever it was attacked him. Or he had been disarmed just as his murderer approached. However, the fact that it remained untouched pointed to the idea of a beast having killed him. Anyone who would have taken the time to destroy him so brutally would have likely broken his wand as well.

The auror left the group, walking around Lucius' body and stood above the sleek, black wand. Bending his knees to kneel, he took his own from within his robes and aimed its tip so that it almost touched the one of the deceased.

''Priori incantato,'' Harry whispered.

A gold thread produced by the auror's wand leapt to the deatheater's, which shined momentarily around it as the echo of Lucius Malfoy's voice could be heard yelling, 'avada kedavra.'

The reverse spell that Harry had used was meant to show a shadow of the spell last used by a wand. 'Avada kedavra.' Harry was well acquainted with the unforgivable curse. Whoever or whatever had attacked him, Lucius planned on killing them himself.

Harry stood, turning to Timothy, ''We have a visit to make. Do you need us here any longer?''

''No, I believe we are good. We'll be leaving as soon as Granger is finished,'' the wizard answered.

''Right,'' Hermione nodded at him before looking toward her husband. ''I will catch up with you later.''

Harry and Ron then joined up behind the others, heading out from under the magical shield. Both headed down Tangley Lane, and toward Salt Box Road.

''Do you think he'll be home?'' Ron asked when out of ear shot of the others.

''I don't know,'' Harry answered. ''I can't even say if he killed Lucius himself, though I'm sure he was involved.''

''What about that other guy, Brad?'' Ron thought. ''Gerald could have held Lucius and had his friend murder him. Might explain the confusion about the wounds.''

Harry shrugged. They had made it to house 14 on Salt Box smoothly and quickly. There was light shining in the downstairs window while the second floor was dark. It was almost seven am when the aurors stepped up to the door and knocked.

A moment later the door swung open. Harry expected to see Oliver behind it, but instead all he saw was an empty hallway. The light was coming from the den. The aurors took out their wands, lifting them into defensive poses before going inside.

The two walked carefully down the hall, stopping to watch the staircase for a while to be sure nobody was there. Everything was still except for what sounded like music playing in the background. They went into the room that had become the usual meeting place with Gerald.

The stereo was playing heavy metal music at a comfortable level, not quietly, but also not too loudly. There was nobody in the room and no disruption either. Everything seemed in its usual place.

Then the sound of plates clanking against each other sounded at the far end of the room from the area Harry had learned to be the kitchen on their previous visit.

The two aurors stepped carefully past the chairs near the center of the room and into the incave that acted as a tiny hall. Suddenly, Gerald appeared from the nearly hidden room opposite where Harry stood. The aurors stretched their arms out instantly, pointing lightly glowing wands mere inches from the dark wizard's face and torso.

''Fuck. Calm down,'' Gerald ordered in his signature disinterested attitude.

He was dressed plainly in black jeans and a black T-shirt displaying a band name that sounded only vaguely familiar to Harry. His hair was unkempt as was usual, but nothing else about his appearance looked disheveled. He was holding two steaming cups in his hands in front of him. One was a mug, presumably filled with coffee and the other looked to be hot tea.

When the aurors remained in their stances, the wizard raised an eyebrow, ''Can I get through or...'' he asked sardonically.

Harry loosened the grip on his wand and backed out of the way with Ron, who kept his wand ready though slightly lowered.

Gerald continued his way into the den and to the red couch he had been sitting on during their first meeting. The aurors followed, but did not sit. Instead they watched the white-haired wizard as he set his coffee mug on the little table in front of him, staying leaned forward as he sipped from his tea.

''Up late, aren't you?'' Harry spoke, remembering Oliver saying he was night person.

''Up early,'' Gerald corrected, resting his tea in his lap and looking up at the auror. ''Brad's flight landed in London earlier this morning. Ollie went to meet him and bring him here so he wouldn't have to travel alone.''

''I see,'' Harry murmured, watching the man on the couch turn his attention to Ron who, though more relaxed, had kept his wand out.

''Can I help you?'' Gerald looked down to the redheads wand.

Ron glanced at Harry before completely lowering his wand. Gerald took his eyes from him then and took another sip of tea.

''Just checking in,'' Harry said. ''We were in the neighborhood.''

''Doing what?'' Gerald was looking at him again.

Harry stared back, letting a few moments pass in silence as he attempted to read the man. He seemed to be unusually complacent...like his mind was entirely elsewhere. His face remained stern and his eyes were glossed over as if he'd been drinking. But it could have also been from not getting enough sleep.

''There was an attack on Tangley Lane,'' Harry informed. ''A man was killed.''

''I'm sorry to hear that,'' Gerald's expression didn't waver, but his next words were thick, ''My condolences to the family.''

''It appears to have been a beast that killed him,'' Harry continued. ''You three might want to be careful for a while until we get things sorted out.''

The music that had been playing changed songs then. Drums and guitar sounded for a few seconds before Gerald threw his left hand in the air, ''I love this song,'' he said, completely ignoring the auror as he twisted his wrist to turn the volume up remotely.

 _''It's in this wake_  
 _that I find myself_  
 _losing the will to resume this hell._  
 _When every breath is a dying wish,_  
 _It's harder to follow the point of this...''_

The dark wizard sang along with the other musician. His voice reaching a deep pitch that seemed to contrast with the soft youthfulness of his appearance. Harry once again found it easy to sympathize with the man.

Gerald sang with emotion equally strong to the sorrowful lyrics he spoke. The vision of the scars on his chest flashed in Harry's mind and he thought about what was known of the wizard's past as well as wondering what else the man had endured.

But this was no time to be gentle. Lucius Malfoy was dead just outside Gerald's home directly after the deatheater had been threatened by the singer.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a bustle in the hallway.

''GER!'' a strange man's voice could barely be heard calling out over the stereo. ''THE FUCK ARE YOU, MAN?''

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: The song Gerald is singing is 'Fading Away' by Demon Hunter. The song actually released in 2007, but I really wanted to use it, so I altered time so that it came out in 2001 instead. BAHAHA! Croaker will be after me next for time-crimes XD**


	21. Chapter 19: Brad Angston

Gerald had picked himself up off the couch, simultaneously lowering the music at the sound of his friend's voice. The aurors watched as he walked around to meet Oliver and Brad, who had appeared out of the hallway and into the room.

''Harry? Ron?'' Oliver spoke with a quizzical look, ''What are you doing here?''

Gerald turned out of the brotherly hug he and Brad had greeted each other with, looking over at the aurors with a smirk, ''There was a man found dead nearby. They were just warning me that there might be a dangerous beast around,'' he glowered at Harry.

''Someone was killed?'' the muggle spoke, looking at the guests before turning toward Gerald and lightly smacking him on the chest. ''The fuck did you do now?'' the man belted with laughter.

Gerald closed his eyes and shook his head with a faint grin.

''That's not funny, Brad,'' Oliver growled. ''These men are with magical law enforcement.''

''Oh,'' Brad calmed himself, still keeping his jovial demeanor.

Oliver turned his glare from Brad, catching eyes with Gerald briefly and Harry was sure he saw him glint at their suspect before he turned to the aurors with a solemn face. He didn't speak, but seemed to be aware that they did, in fact, think Gerald was responsible.

Harry sighed, stepping away from the furniture, ''Actually,'' he admitted, facing Gerald again, ''We would like to see your hands.''

The wizard tilted his head to the side, blue eyes narrowing as he looked back at the auror.

Then a loud sigh left Oliver. He crossed his arms and smacked his lips open, ''So you are suspicious of Gerald.''

''We have reason to be,'' Ron spoke up.

''Yes, because I'm quite a beast,'' Gerald had put his thumbs in his pockets. His head was still sideways, but his eyes had returned to normal.

''We can't rule out that a wizard was involved,'' Harry jabbed.

Oliver gave another loud sigh which obviously annoyed his friend. ''Relax, Oliver,'' Gerald glared at him as he stepped forward, raising his right hand, then turning to face Harry, looking intent into the auror's eyes, ''They're wasting their time.''

Harry glared back at the man, glancing at his outstretched hand, ''Both your hands.''

The dark wizard kept his gaze, hesitating only a moment before raising his left hand as well.

Harry produced his wand, aiming its tip at Gerald's hands just as he had done with Lucius' wand only minutes earlier. The auror spoke the spell and a gold strand of light left his wand again, illuminating around his hands.

Side by side, two shadowy visions appeared above Gerald's hands. Over the left, the image was of him sitting on the couch, using his hand to adjust the stereo. Over the right, Saul Croaker appeared, attacking Gerald who stopped the furled items with the 'stupefy' charm.

Once the shadows dissipated and the golden energy was gone, Gerald retrieved his hands, placing thumbs in his jean pockets again and leaning to where his weight was mostly on one foot.

Brad cleared his throat awkwardly, ''I, uh, I'll be upstairs,'' he announced as he began backing away.

''Don't worry about it,'' Harry spoke to stop him, ''We're leaving. Thank you for your time,'' the auror huffed absentmindedly as he started to leave the home, taking notice that Gerald immediately moved as well- back to his tea.

The two aurors closed the door behind them as they left and then walked through the grass that was still uncut, taking several paces down the sidewalk along the road.

At that point, Ron suddenly grabbed his partner by the arm, ''Hold up, mate.''

Harry turned to the redhead who smiled then, showing an item he now held in his hand. Harry blinked, not having seen the object in several years.

''Is that...'' Harry spoke in a hushed voice.

''George had been messing around with the old extension ears,'' Ron confirmed. ''He gave me a pair. See the improvements?'' the auror asked excitedly.

Harry took the ear from the outstretched hand and studied it, ''It's much smaller,'' he deduced.

''Yeah, and look, the receiver and transmitter don't have to be connected anymore,'' Ron smiled.

Harry paused for a moment, taking his gaze from the contraption he held and up to the redhead's face, ''Ron, did you leave the receiver in Gerald's house just now?''

The auror beamed, ''While everyone away so focused with Brad getting there and all, I stuck it under the coffee table.''

''Why didn't you tell me about this?'' Harry breathed.

''Well, I only saw George last night. I meant to tell you this morning, but with its surprise start, it kind of slipped my mind,'' he explained before quickly grabbing the device back from his partner. ''Now let's just hope they haven't cast any imperturbable charms or anything.''

The redhead flipped a tiny switch on the fake ear as Harry looked nervously around to make sure they were in the clear. Just as the familiar voices of the metal band sounded from Ron's hand, the auror was certain they were safe. He tugged his friend to follow him closer to the bushes that separated them from another residence two doors down.

''So help me, Gerald, if you are involved...''

''What? You'll do what exactly, Oliver?'' Gerald spoke back angrily. ''Tell me, I'm curious.''

A loud rustle sounded through the ear, startling the aurors. Then there was a banging noise through which Brad's voice could barely be heard yelling, 'guys!'

''Because if you've pulled this shit again, I'll fucking kill you myself!'' Oliver's voice seemed to be releasing years of frustration in that single moment.

''You wouldn't either,'' Gerald hissed. ''You'd just run off and tell your little wizard friends.''

''Yeah, right,'' Oliver replied with a sardonic tone, ''like I told MACUSA about you when you told me who you were. Like I told them about you almost killing those muggles a few years ago. Oh wait a minute, I didn't.''

''Guys, guys!'' Brad stepped in, ''Calm down. You're both just stressed is all. Get off of him, Oliver.''

''Of course you would take _his_ side,'' Oliver spat.

''Fuck, man, I'm not taking any sides!'' Brad yelled, ''You're both being stupid.''

There was another rustle, followed by a few moments of silence before Oliver spoke again. This time in a soft voice.

''Beneath everything, I know you're a good person, Ger...but you can't keep lying to me.''

More rustling that Harry assumed was Gerald regaining himself as it sounded that Oliver had backed off.

''I won't keep sticking up for you if you can't at least be honest with me,'' Oliver added before footsteps sounded walking away from the room.

''Are you alright, Ger?'' Brad spoke after the footsteps had gone quiet.

''I'm fine,'' the dark wizard gruffed, his voice getting closer to the planted ear.

''He's right though,'' Brad continued, ''I know I was the first person you opened up to after that Tom guy and I know it wasn't easy for you to trust me. Still isn't sometimes,'' the man mused, ''But Ollie cares about you too. You can't keep hating the whole world because of what's happened in the past.''

Gerald sighed loudly. Harry could almost picture him sitting on that red couch, leaning forward with his head in his hands.

''I have no idea what I'm doing anymore, Brad,'' Gerald whispered. ''Ever since Tom died... These past three years...'' he trailed off.

''You've definitely changed since then,'' Brad pointed, ''I mean, you've always been a cynical person. At least since I've known you. And emotional, but...you've kind of gone off the deepend since your friend died. You've become really aggressive...drinking all the time, the drugs...and trying to kill yourself those times? Not cool, bro.''

''I know,'' Gerald agreed, ''I feel like I've lost control of myself. I don't...I don't know how to get it back.''

There was a brief silence.

''You could start by letting us help,'' Brad finally spoke. ''We can't do that if you hide away from us and treat us like we're your enemies. Everything the three of us know about each other, everything we've gone through together...that should be proof that we got your back, shouldn't it?''

''It should be,'' Gerald's voice grew angry again. ''But I'm not myself anymore...I don't want to drag you down with me either.''

''Ger!'' Brad yelled suddenly and the aurors heard more rustling. ''Where are you going?''

''I don't know,'' the wizard's voice grew quieter. ''I need to be alone.''

The next thing the aurors heard was the door to the band's home opening and then slamming shut. But they didn't need the ear to hear it. Footsteps sounded down the stone sidewalk.

Harry quickly pulled out his invisibility cloak, throwing it over himself and his partner, just as the white-haired wizard appeared at the end of his drive and turned from side to side, contemplating which way to go.

However, he finally decided to take neither way. Instead, he spun on his heel and disapparated.


	22. Chapter 20: Disappearance

Three days had passed since the day Lucius was murdered. Nothing had been definitively proven of the culprit, however. Hermione could not link it to any beast or being and there had been no luck with finding any wild creature about.

Likewise, the aurors were at a loss of what exactly transpired. Nonetheless, Gerald remained the top suspect and though, of course, that was confidential information, Draco Malfoy was smart enough to put the pieces together.

The Malfoy family had been notified of Lucius' passing the same day. The following, Minister Shackelbolt's statement had been released warning citizens only that he passed in an unexplained accident.

Draco didn't take the news well. Even though he had renounced the teachings of his father, the ex-deatheater still loved the man who had been a driving force in his life. He refused to believe that something as simple as a freak accident had been the cause of the powerful wizard's demise and outright asked if the man the aurors had questioned him and his father about had been involved.

The aurors pressed on with the story that it was all a mystery, which wasn't a complete lie. After speaking with Draco, they feared he would try to take matters into his own hands and even retaliate, but all they could do was wait.

It was on that third day that Harry felt sure Draco had stepped in as it was then that the aurors contacted the residence at 14 Salt Box Road again to discover that Gerald had not returned since his and Oliver's fight.

''I don't know where he's gone,'' Oliver's voice was weak, his guilt showing through.

''Why haven't you reported him missing?'' Harry asked over the phone. ''Has he taken leaves like this before?''

The other wizard hesitated, ''No. I mean, he's never put this much distance between us... He would have at least spoken to Brad by now...''

''I understand,'' Harry soothed. ''Please let us know if he comes back or contacts either of you.''

''Ok,'' Oliver replied softly before hanging up.

Harry put down the phone with a frustrated sigh. The conversation Ron had helped them overhear was saddening at first thought, but deeper reflection showed a darker side.

The three musicians shared a strong bond. One that held when wickedness was involved as well. Oliver seemed convinced that Gerald was not evil, even with the dim things he knew about his friend. Though aware of his faults, he was most concerned with Gerald's honesty with him more than his guilt of any crimes.

Brad seemed to care nothing about his friend's innocence, instead focusing on his happiness and peace of mind. He didn't appear to care at all if the wizard were dark or not. Knowing of Voldemort's wickedness, he still sympathized with Gerald's sentimental attachment to the evil wizard.

Both men were aware of their friend's guarded nature and took it into account every time Gerald was dishonest or found himself in trouble again. Even so, Oliver seemed to be reaching his last straw. Harry didn't feel that Oliver would easily betray Gerald even so. Brad certainly wouldn't.

''Should we contact Draco?'' Ron spoke, jarring the other auror from his thoughts.

''Can you take care of it?'' Harry asked. ''I want to see if Professor Croaker is still in.''

''Sure,'' Ron nodded, heading for the phone, ''Hermione and I will meet up with you and Ginny at The Three Broomsticks, then, yeah?"

"Yeah, see you there," Harry agreed as he took his leave.

Ginny had returned home that day from her trip while Harry was at work. The two of them had made plans to go with Hermione and Ron to Hogsmeade in the afternoon for a drink when the aurors had finished up at the Ministry, which ended up taking longer than usual. The aurors had had to catch up on a couple of other cases. Just follow up work including a meeting with The Daily Prophet for final statements and warnings to the public.

Harry didn't expect the unspeakable to be available. He mostly just didn't want to deal with the futile conversation with Draco right then. Also, he quite doubted that if he had encountered Gerald, it would be Gerald that was missing. Not disparaging his old classmate's capabilities, just being aware that the American wizard was more capable. Especially if he had killed Lucius...

Harry reached the floor of the Department of Ministries to see it was sealed, an hourglass counting down to when employees would return. He returned to the lift and took it back up to the Atrium where he stepped into one of the chimneys there, taking the floo network to his own home.

"Ginny?" he called, taking off his formal robes and laying them on top of the couch as he stepped out of the fire place.

"Harry!" Ginny cried happily, entering the room with a jump into her husband's arms. "Oh, I've missed you! How was your day?"

Harry smiled, squeezing her tightly against him, "Frustrating, but much better now."

Loosening their hold on each other, Ginny leaned in, placing her lips on Harry's for a gentle kiss first. Then, closing her eyes, went in again for a more passionate exchange. Harry reciprocated lovingly pressing harder against her, his hands finding her waist and feeling around it as his wife's hands reached his face, pulling to keep their lips touching.

"I'm so glad you're home," Harry said when they had finished their reunion, his arms still holding her waist.

"Me too," Ginny smiled brightly, putting her arms around his shoulders, looking up into his eyes. "Oh!" she exclaimed suddenly, breaking from her husband. "Hermione and Ron will be waiting for us! You should get changed."

"Changed?" Harry objected. "I took off my coat. What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"Ugh," Ginny sighed and began shoving her husband, "Go put something more comfortable on. Go!"

Harry grinned, relenting as he went into their bedroom and opened the closet. As he was undressing, Ginny's voice called into the room.

"So, you haven't told me much about your investigation," she started. "I heard about Lucius...Is this Gerald guy involved?"

Harry's smile faded. He didn't want to talk about work, but he also knew not telling his wife would worry her even more. "We're not sure...Ron and I heard him threaten Lucius, but..."

"But what?" Ginny had appeared in the doorway.

Harry turned around to face her after grabbing a pair of plain blue jeans from the closet. "He didn't threaten Lucius, exactly... He threatened his wife and Draco."

Ginny's face grew solemn, "That's..." she started, but changed thoughts, "Do you think Lucius went to find him?"

Harry nodded as he pulled up his jeans and buttoned them, "That's what I thought, yeah. It's just the way Lucius died. They called Hermione to the scene with us because they thought a beast had done it."

"Oh," Ginny replied, thrown off. "Is..."

"Human," Harry answered before she finished the question. Pulling a shirt over his head and straightening it, he walked to his wife. "As far as we can tell he's human. Let's go, huh? We can talk more later," he smiled, holding his arm out.

As soon as Ginny took it, the two disappeared into the fuzz of apparation, coming back to themselves just outside of Hogsmeade. The all-wizarding village was a popular destination for Hogwarts students and many adult wizards alike. Among the attractions were Honeydukes, Zonko's Joke Shop, The Shrieking Shack, Hog's Head, and of course The Three Broomsticks.

The young couple walked hand in hand through the snowy streets of the village. It was late in the afternoon, but early enough in the evening that the sun was still out to cast a beautiful light on the bleak climate. It was a short way to the pub where they would be meeting their friends.

"Ginny!" Hermione's voice came from behind the couple just as they reached the doors of The Three Broomsticks.

Harry and his wife spun around to see Hermione and Ron feet from them. Ginny and Hermione found each other in a friendly embrace while Ron grinned over them at Harry.

"It's good to see you! I hope the trip went smoothly," Hermione smiled at the other witch as they let go of each other.

"It went very well," Ginny answered as the two began walking past Harry and into the pub.

The two aurors followed behind the women who led them to a table near the middle of the building. The wives kept bubbling on about various details of Ginny's trip as the four took their seats and waited to be served. The girls had taken the booth facing the door while their husbands sat in the one opposite.

"I wish things here had been so pleasant," Ron interjected at the first pause in the conversation.

"Yes, Harry was telling me that you've been having some trouble," Ginny appeared worried for her husband again.

Hermione's expression became serious as well. "Apparently Gerald Davis is a bother to deal with. Very sketchy."

"Well do you know anything for certain about him being a dark wizard?" Ginny inquired.

"Several things that point to it, you know, besides his lying about working with Voldemort," Ron answered.

"His being a necromancer is one," Hermione said with a quick explanation of the reality about the form of wizardry. "The boys think he may have actually been the one to create the horcruxes for Voldemort."

Ginny's eyes widened, "Are you serious?"

The aurors nodded. "Saul Croaker seems to believe so too," Ron added before turning to his partner with a smirk, "By the way, Harry, Draco is offended by our accusation."

"Of course he is," Harry grinned.

A waitress appeared at the table then, "What can I get for you?" she smiled.

"Just four butterbeers. Thank you," Ginny said, watching as the witch left,her eyes suddenly catching on something in the distance. "You said this Gerald has white hair, didn't you?"

Hermione followed the redheaded woman's eyes to where they lay beyond. "You've got to be kidding me," she muttered.

Harry and Ron turned in their seat, immediately seeing what the witches had. Sitting at the bar was a wizard dressed all in black, hands cupped on top of his white head, leaning back in his chair. They watched for a moment longer until a man behind the bar brought him a glass and his hands fell from their position. The wizard turned his face to the side briefly as he scratched at his hidden cheek before looking back and picking up the mug in front of him.

"Bloody hell," Ron exclaimed.

Harry, however, said nothing as he slid out of his seat and trudged toward the wizard. Ron gave his wife an unsure look which she answered with a glare that he took to mean he should follow his friend.

"There you are," Harry said with a thick voice the instant he reached the bar, "Your friends have been worried about you."

Gerald's eyes darted to the auror without turning his head. "Your concern is flattering," he replied equally as abrasive as he lifted the mug to take a drink.

Without thinking, Harry reached out to put his hand on the man's glass and pushed it back down onto the bar. Gerald turned in his seat to face the auror then. His eyes were glazed and flashed with anger under his furrowed brow. Obviously anything Oliver assured his brother about Gerald's control over substance use was entirely out the window. The cheek he had been scratching at, now exposed, showed a deep cut sideways from his hairline to his mouth.

"Get into another fight?" Harry questioned harshly upon seeing the wound.

"Yeah with some young punk that didn't know when to quit," Gerald growled making his insinuation obvious.

"I think you've had enough to drink," Harry glared back.

Gerald turned away from the auror again, blinking his eyes rapidly several times. He reached out his right hand, taking firm hold of the drink in front of him and then shoved the glass toward where Harry was leaned against the bar. The beverage cascaded out of the mug when it stopped moving, splashing the auror's clothes. Gerald stood up suddenly, facing Harry and Ron who both quickly retrieved their wands.

"You're not doing yourself any favors," Harry whispered calmly as Gerald continued to loom, his eyes still full of anger.

Gerald's gaze gradually lessened and he was blinking again, turning to glance around the room. Several other witches' and wizards' attention had been drawn to the scene. The blue eyed man's energy seemed to change abruptly at this realization.

"You're right," he muttered at the floor before looking back up at the aurors. "Sorry."

His eyes lingered on Harry's momentarily while the wizards lowered their wands and replaced them on their person. Gerald's hand was on his face again, absentmindedly picking at the wound.

"You should have that looked at," Harry offered in a less rough manner.

"It's fine," Gerald mumbled, "I've had worse."

The white-haired wizard then turned to the bar, dropping his hand to pull a galleon from the jeans he still wore from three nights prior, and laid it on the counter before stepping to the side and beginning to walk out of the pub.

Ron and Harry exchanged looks with each other before sauntering after the wizard. Harry reached around and grabbed Gerald's arm. In an instant reaction, the white-haired wizard used that arm to take hold of Harry's, turning and pulling the auror into him, kneeing him in the stomach before pushing him away.

Ron drew his wand, stepping up past Harry, who was quickly regaining himself. Gerald had not moved from his spot. He stood there, chest heaving, waiting to see how the aurors would respond. The redhead kept his wand and his eyes pointed on Harry's attacker as he spoke to the side.

"You alright, mate?"

Harry had already reached his feet, "Lower your wand, Ron," he told his partner.

"What? He attacked you," the auror protested. "That's an offense right there. You remember what the minister said."

" _Ron,_ " Harry said more sternly.

Finally the redhead relented and put his wand down. Both aurors kept their eyes on Gerald, who was glaring back furiously. However, once again, as soon as he seemed to remember that he was surrounded by other magical folk, he backed off. His gaze hitting the floor again, he put his hands in his pockets and continued waiting for Harry and Ron to act.

Harry took notice of the man's shying away when recalling his current surroundings. Gerald was used to living in the muggle world. Even when it was not required of him. Harry put together in that moment that the dark wizard wasn't just hateful of other wizards...he was leery of them. With this in mind, he took a different approach. Stepping towards the man again, he lifted his hands.

"I apologize. I shouldn't have grabbed you like that," Harry said.

Gerald looked up at him. His eyes were still very glossy and Harry wondered how much he had had to drink and how aware of the situation he actually was. He didn't say anything or even open his mouth. Instead, he looked off to the side again. His hand found the gash on his face once more and suddenly he was smirking.

"Gerald," Harry continued softly. "You can come outside with us and talk while we have that cut attended to...or we can arrest you for assaulting an officer."

The drunken wizard's smirk grew into a smile and he shook his head, looking back up, but not directly at anyone. "Fine. We'll talk." 


	23. Chapter 21: Aberforth

''I'm just going to take a look first to see what the damage is,'' Hermione cautiously alerted the dark wizard before leaning closely toward him and studying the gash on his face.

Harry had asked Ron to fetch his wife while he walked outside with Gerald. He had taken him down a few blocks from the pub to a less trafficked part of the village which, at that hour, was just outside Zonko's Joke Shop that had recently closed for the day.

Gerald had taken a spot standing straight with his back pressed against the window of the store and Harry stayed a comfortable distance for both of them, watching the man intently. Ron took a similar stance when he and his wife caught up, but instead keeping an eye on the group's surroundings.

Hermione, whose only introduction was Harry saying she was going to take care of Gerald's wound, passed in between the two aurors to stand directly in front of the white haired man, his short stature putting them easily eye to eye.

Harry took notice of Gerald's vague show of discomfort at the way their positions almost had him pinned in and walked behind Hermione to stand by Gerald's other side instead, closer to his partner.

The man didn't move as the witch's face twisted and bobbed in front of him, looking up and down his cut. After a moment of straining, Hermione fell back away from him, sighing before nervously lifting her hands.

''I need to, uh, can I...?'' she motioned with her hands, looking directly into the wizard's glossy blue eyes.

He glanced at her, giving an almost imperceptible nod as he turned back to the side to look at Harry.

Hermione's touch, even though expected, made Gerald flinch but he forced himself to stay still as she pulled at the sides of his wound here and there, giving it a closer examination.

''So where have you been?'' Harry asked, semi-successfully taking Gerald's attention from his discomfort at the witch touching his face.

''Around,'' he answered vaguely, but not with any rude undertone as was normal for him.

Hermione dropped her hands and slowly produced her wand, taking a couple of steps backward. ''I'm just going to-''

''I'm not a puppy,'' Gerald interrupted her with a flat voice. ''Just assume that I know you're not going to attack me. Here,'' he lifted away from the glass behind him, making a show of taking his hands, clenching them together behind him, and pressing himself back against the shop. ''For your peace of mind.''

Hermione gave the strange man a perplexed look before shaking her head and taking a step toward him, wand aimed almost within his cheek.

''Aguamenti,'' she cast the water spell to clean the wound.

The wizard's lip curled slightly in a wince. Otherwise he remained stationary. When the witch had finished, he pushed his shoulder upward and his head down to dry his face with his shirt, his hands staying firmly locked behind him.

''And _around_ where did that happen to you?'' Harry pressed.

Gerald sighed. Hermione approached him once more with her wand ready, ''Vulnera sanentar,'' she sang as her wand traced the gash.

In response, the wound began knitting itself back together, the skin reattaching at each broken side. Hermione lowered her wand again once the incantation was complete, and stepped away from the wizard who had removed himself from the glass, freeing his hands at last.

''Thanks,'' he spoke directly to the witch, blue eyes stuck on her.

''You're welcome,'' Hermione answered stiffly.

His gaze stayed upon the woman for a while, obviously making her uncomfortable...and her husband as well. Ron moved away from his post, placing himself next to his wife, staring back at Gerald whose eyes then leapt from her to him.

''London,'' the dark wizard spoke suddenly. ''It happened in London.'' He stopped staring at the redheaded auror and turned his head to the side, looking off down the road.

''And who gave it to you?'' Harry asked, ''Or what?''

Gerald looked quickly back at the auror interrogating him and smirked before turning his eyes on Hermione again, ''You tell me,'' his grin grew wider, his gaze staying on the witch for a few moments before he started off down the path he had just observed.

The aurors and Hermione watched as he made his way away from them. Just as he began to grow small in their field of vision, he twisted around to face them, giving a sarcastic wave before spinning into disapparation.

The three kept their gazes after where he had disappeared. The mysterious man had known they weren't just healing his injury. They were using the excuse to find out about it before he had the chance to fix it himself.

''What made that cut, Hermione?'' Harry asked.

The witch hesitated. ''I almost don't want to say. It's so strange...''

''At this point, nothing will surprise me,'' Harry assured her.

''A vampire,'' she mustered.

''Vampire?!'' her husband squeaked, ''There hasn't been any reports of vampires in-''

''Years, I know,'' Hermione agreed, ''But there's no mistaking it. That gash was seared as it was being made. Vampires are the only magical beings ever recorded or rumored to attack like that.''

''Hermione, was Lucius killed by a vampire?'' Harry took his attention from Gerald's departure and put it on his friends again.

The witch sighed. ''I feel daft for not counting it as a possibility until now, but to be perfectly honest...there have been so few encounters reported in the past few centuries that they aren't thought to be real at all. At least not anymore if they ever were,'' she paused a moment then nodded, ''After seeing that wound, it's a definite possibility.''

The three stood in silent contemplation. Vampires were extremely rare. Their population was very small and their culture was obscure. They were labeled within the Ministry of Magic as 'magical beings:' magical creatures of enough intelligence to understand laws and the workings of society.

All that was really known about them was their need to feed on human blood, their fatal allergy to sunlight, and their immortality. Vampires appeared as any other human and it was rumored that that was how they began, as humans...wizards, actually. These wizards corrupted their souls and gave up their magic in exchange for the immortality and strength of the dark creatures. It was Newt Scamander, author of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, who had reported the most recent siting of the creatures during the last century. However, there was no proof so most didn't put stock in his story.

''Do you think he killed the vampire that attacked him?'' Ron asked.

"I don't know, but it's doubtful we'll find out," Hermione answered.

The aurors looked quizzically at the witch. "Why is that?" Ron continued.

"Because if he did, he's obviously taken the route of hiding it. I don't imagine with his experience that that is something he finds difficult to do. If he didn't hide it, the vampires will take care of doing so themselves. They haven't remained hidden this long by leaving their dead around to be discovered," she explained.

"What if he didn't? Kill the vampire, I mean," Harry mused.

"Do you really believe that Gerald would spare someone that attacked him like that?" Ron inquired. "Especially a non-human whose death wouldn't be taken as seriously?"

"I agree, Ronald," Hermione nodded to her husband and then turned back, "And I could be wrong, but I don't see a creature like that just giving up and backing off either. It attacked him for a reason. Presumably to feed."

"Presumably, yes," Harry thought aloud, "But what if that _wasn't_ the reason?"

Hermione and Ron exchanged glances. The witch opened her mouth to speak, falling short of what to say next.

"Don't you think it's odd that Gerald shows up and there are immediately two attacks from some sort of creature, quite possibly a vampire, while at the same time we learn that Gerald himself may not be entirely human? Both the odd properties of his blood and the larger workings of vampires being a mystery?" the auror went on.

"Gerald's not a vampire, Harry," Hermione stated with certainty.

The dark-haired auror shook his head, "I know...maybe...I mean..." The man grunted in aggravation. "There's definitely something we're not seeing here..."

"It would explain him looking so young anyway," Ron shrugged.

Hermione gawked at her husband, shaking her head furiously at both wizards. "He _can't_ be a vampire. Listen, you two, we _have_ records of vampires albeit ancient ones. They clearly state that vampires can NOT survive in the sunlight. Gerald is always in the sun. They also say vampires relinquished their magic to become immortal and gain super-human strength. Gerald still has his magic. It also doesn't seem likely that with his temper, he's gone so long without showing any inhuman strength he might have," the witch finished her ranting monologue.

A quiet fell upon the three while Hermione caught her breath and her calm. Harry stayed stuck on his new conviction that Gerald was not human. The auror looked from his friends and back the The Three Broomsticks where he caught sight of his wife nervously peering about outside and then, spotting them, making her way over.

"Either way," Ron piped, "We should see if Dumbledore's brother is in town while we're here."

"Right," Harry breathed, having forgotten that Aberforth owned the Hog's Head Inn there in the village.

"Is everything alright?" Ginny had reached them and was smiling weakly at her three friends, focusing on her husband.

"Yeah. Sorry, hun," Harry assured, stepping forward and putting his arms around her.

"It's getting late. He may already be back home in Godric's Hollow," Hermione deduced.

"Let's still see," Harry let his wife go into a half hug and began leading the group away.

The four traversed the darkening streets back past The Three Broomsticks and on, finally reaching Hog's Head several more blocks down.

The inn was located in a building that had to be countless decades or even centuries old...maybe even one of the first constructed in the magical village. Its grey stones seemed to be on the verge of decay in places and overall the place seemed pretty glum. Along with the climate of the highlands, not a cheery vacation spot at all.

The group fell into a single file line to enter the archaic wood door at the front of the inn, stepping inside to a slightly more pleasant interior. Management seemed to have made efforts to make it inviting while still keeping its history.

The pub area just inside was very similar to the one they had left, but with more comfortable furniture. It was equally as busy too. The day had waned well into the hours of appropriate drinking and there was a loud buzz echoing through the room.

Harry stepped up to the bar and spoke to the goblin that was tending it, "Excuse me, is Mr. Aberforth around?"

The goblin scowled at the auror and his company or maybe he didn't...it was hard to tell. Harry had found that all of the species seemed to keep a judgemental expression about them. Perhaps it was their dominant brow and shiny, beady eyes. Either way, the barkeep stared at them a moment, polishing the glass in his hand, before turning his head to the side and nodding at another, smaller goblin that had come up beside him. This second employee flashed the wizards the same look and then huffed away.

"I will let you know if he's available," the bartender informed them politely then walked off to the side to help another customer. Harry barely got out a 'thank you' before he was otherwise occupied.

"Why are we here?" Ginny whispered when her husband turned back around.

"To see if Dumbledore's brother knows anything about Gerald," Ron answered.

Ginny turned to her brother with a confused look, "Why would he?"

"Because of Dumbledore's past association with his father," Hermione explained.

"Oh, I had forgotten about that..." Ginny trailed off as she recalled that the first time Harry had told her about the wizard was in saying he was the son of Gellert Grindelwald. "Aberforth's relationship with his brother was very troubled though, wasn't it? How likely is it that he does?"

"Oh, I'm sure he has an idea," a voice vaguely familiar to the group sounded suddenly behind them.


	24. Chapter 22: The Lost Letter

''Mr. Dumbledore,'' Harry spoke as their circle opened up to reveal the brother of their previous headmaster.

''He's in the UK now then,'' the bearded wizard mused.

Harry nodded.

''So you did know about him?'' Ron said sounding accusatory.

The old man tilted his head back and squinted at the redhead, ''Come along. We will talk in my office.''

Aberforth strolled on past the group and around the counter corner to a door just beyond it. The four younger wizards followed him into the room after he flicked it open. Once all were inside, the door fell shut automatically.

The office had not been tended to like the pub. The dim, crumbling architecture that appeared outside of Hog's Head likewise showed in this room. There were heavy wooden bookshelves filled to the brim lining either wall running vertical to the one holding the door.

Aberforth walked gently to the other side of the large mahogany desk that stood near the opposite wall in between the bookcases, taking a seat in the equally massive chair behind it. He said nothing as his company stood awkwardly about, the aurors finally taking the only other seats in the office.

The two sat just across the desk from Aberforth as the old wizard idly looked over a paper that lay in front of him. Their wives stood at the back of the room next to the closed door. It was technically business, so they probably shouldn't even be present. With this in mind, they did their best to stay silent and out of the way.

''I don't know what he is planning exactly, but I fear for the safety of your child,'' Aberforth suddenly spoke. He was reading the paper his eyes had been grazing. ''I don't know of what you are aware, but Gellert's experiments are exceedingly cruel. I have reason to believe he has tampered with your unborn child and plans to use him further. I will explain more in person, but until then, please stay away from Gellert. He is a danger to you and Gerald,'' the old wizard stopped, slowly looking up at the aurors.

''Did Albus write that letter?'' Harry asked before silence could settle again.

''It's the only correspondence with the woman that I found,'' Aberforth nodded. ''Nothing more from either one of them.''

Harry looked at Ron then glanced back at the witches, giving Hermione an obvious shrug. She sighed, giving up on professionalism and taking one lone step forward.

''Sir, Albus wasn't involved with Grindelwald at that time, was he?'' she asked.

''No, not for two decades,'' Aberforth paused, his lips curling. ''I know what you're thinking and I don't know how he came to know of the child other than he must have been keeping his eye on Grindelwald.''

''Do you have any idea what he meant when he said Gerald had been tampered with?'' Harry inquired.

The old wizard lifted a hand to stroke his beard, ''All I know is Gellert's infamy in Durmstrang for these...experiments of his. He was expelled for their vile nature.''

Harry nodded, remembering what he had learned previously about the dark wizard. ''Sir, excuse me for presuming anything, but...you already had this letter out. Why?''

Aberforth inhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. ''I've done my own investigation, Mr. Potter. I found this letter months ago and it didn't set right with me that there had never been information about this son of one of the darkest wizards to ever be. I conversed with an old acquaintance and former employee of MACUSA who enlightened me to the disappearance of Delilah Davis back during the 1920s. She was a witch that had been rumored to have been seen with Gellert Grindelwald on more than one occasion.''

The wizard paused to clear his throat. ''He told me after she'd been found, they learned she had birthed Gerald Davis...but you know this part of the story already,'' the wizard's eyes narrowed, allowing time for objection before continuing. ''With a little work, I discovered Gerald was still living. MACUSA had long given up any active search for him.''

''Blimey. You were the one that told them about him?'' Ron surmised.

Aberforth made a thoughtful noise behind his pursed lips, then opened them to inform, ''I didn't expect his upheaval from America to here."

"Has he spoken with you?" Harry questioned suddenly.

The elder wizard seemed puzzled, his brow furrowed as he contemplated the auror's blurt. "Why would you ask that?" he countered.

"Gerald was here in Hogsmeade not even an hour ago," Hermione cut in to explain.

The bearded man's expression jumped into one of disbelief. Forcing his wide eyes back to a normal state, he cleared his throat and leaned forward, "Where?"

"At The Three Broomsticks," Ron answered.

Aberforth pulled his attention from the witch, gave it to her husband and then leaned back in his chair again as his gaze found rest looking over the entirety of his company. "I did not see him. Do you feel he was he looking for me?"

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance before the lead investigator answered, "I don't think so. We don't know why he was here exactly. Just that he was drunk," Harry rolled his eyes with that last sentence.

"Hmm. I see," the surviving Dumbledore mused.

"Is there anything else you can tell us?" Ron asked.

"No, I don't believe there is," Aberforth replied.

"Okay, well, thank you, Mr. Dumbledore," Harry said, pushing his chair back and standing. "Will you contact us if-"

"I will," the man cut him off with a tone that Harry couldn't place as he offered the auror the letter.

The auror nodded with a fleeting smile as his counterpart also rose, taking the letter before going on his way. The two met up with their wives who had opened the door, already beginning to leave. Harry was the last out, giving the old, bearded wizard another glance beforehand. However, he didn't pick up anything more from the short look. Aberforth, like his brother had been, was generally stoic and hard to read.

Without any deliberation, the four found their way back outside the inn, but when the group began to halt just past Hog's Head's doors, Harry kept walking so as to lead them away. If Gerald hadn't already discovered Aberforth, he didn't want to set the dark wizard on the right path. Harry's eyes kept scanning all around the village as they strolled. He never caught any glimpse of Gerald or anything else suspicious which was good though it didn't mean a hundred percent that there wasn't something happening.

Finally, they came to a rest around their original destination at The Three Broomsticks and Harry turned, pulling his wife with him, in order to recreate their usual circle, "Still thinking Gerald's blood has nothing to do with vampires, Hermione?"

The witch grunted, "I never said it didn't, Harry; just that he isn't a vampire himself. And if you're considering that he's some sort of hybrid or mix...I just can't say. I wouldn't think that's the case being that the only information we have on the origin of vampires is that they were humans who chose to be transformed in trade for their magic. We don't know if it changes their blood or even if they can reproduce. IF vampire blood is different from human blood and IF Grindelwald somehow merged that blood with his son's, I guess it's in the realm of possibility that Gerald could have some vampiric characteristics, but not all of them, though that outcome still doesn't seem probable."

"I would say it makes sense in a general theory, but I'm with Hermione on this," Ginny agreed. "Giving up magic and corrupting the soul is how someone becomes a vampire, so wouldn't that mean the transformations is more to do with magic than anything physical? Especially considering how few vampires there are. To me that points to vampires not being able to genetically reproduce."

"I don't know about any of that," Ron poked in, "but why would he want to experiment on his son? I mean, what's to gain by changing his DNA or whatever?"

"Could be as simple as wanting to have a human guinea pig that he can control," Harry answered. "What better way to perform experiments on a human than to raise a child to brainwash or bully into letting you do whatever you want with them?"

"That's a bit dark..." Ron said. "What's the endgame though is what I meant? Just to learn?"

Harry shrugged and the redhead looked over to his wife. "Maybe," she hummed.

"Well, Gerald knows at least that we're aware he's had an incident with vampires," Harry picked up again. "So there's no point in doing anything other than approaching him freely about that knowledge. He does know that we've performed tests on his blood as well, but I've been differing about speaking too much about it until we have something more precise."

"That might never happen though, mate," Ron nudged.

Harry nodded, "I know. We'll wait until we talk to Professor Croaker one more time and then go from there. In the meantime, Hermione, you should make sure there is extra caution about monitoring for any creatures or beings out there."

"Do you think that Brad and Oliver know about any of this?" Hermione asked with a nod. "The vampires, his tampered blood...?"

"I don't know...but we're about to find out," Harry's voice dripped with grave intention.


	25. Chapter 23: Gone, but notGone?

"Your wives are correct," the unspeakable informed the aurors. "As far as vampires not being able to naturally reproduce or their blood being changed, anyway."

The man had come to the aurors' joint office the next morning without any word from either of them. He did have information to share with them regarding the tests he performed on Gerald, but their conversation had started out by Ron talking about the encounter with their investigatee.

"Those odd properties in Gerald's blood has nothing to do with vampires?" Harry asked.

"There was a body found a few centuries ago," Croaker continued, "Its condition was so baffling that it ended up locked away in the department of mysteries. It appeared normal enough at first glance other than wounds similar to that you just discovered on your American friend, but there was absolutely no blood within the corpse. The injuries were minor at best so nothing to cause a huge blood loss. Even if there were, a human will die long before anywhere near hundred percent of their blood is gone and when a person dies, they stop bleeding because it is the beating of the heart that makes us bleed. That means to be entirely drained, the body would have to have been pumped clean. There was no sign of this either."

"They had vampire claw wounds...so then a vampire drank all their blood?" Ron guessed.

"It was a thought, but no," Croaker gave, "There was no wound suggesting that either. Like I said, the cuts were hardly anything. We found that the canines were removed from the jaw... It's believed that the corpse itself is that of a vampire."

Harry and Ron both became completely enthralled at that point. "The body didn't have any blood because vampires don't have any," Harry mused.

"Right," the unspeakable smiled, "Every test showed that the body is, in all physicality, human."

"There couldn't be any combining DNA then to make someone have vampire powers then, yeah?" the redhead surmised.

Saul Croaker shook his head, "This Gerald might not be part vampire, but he's part something inhuman. And yes, Mr. Weasely, whatever that is is the reason behind his youthful appearance."

"What did you find out?" Harry asked, lifting the cooling tea in his hand and taking a drink.

"Just that the bits I pointed out _have_ to be that of another creature. Closer inspection has taught me that the length of his telomeres are unprecedented. They're longer than any creature we've known."

Harry lowered his cup, watching as his partner's expression became just as confused as his own. "His what, sir?"

"In our DNA, there are strings, if you will, called telomeres. These are directly linked to the longevity of a person. Generally speaking, the longer they are, the younger you are," Croaker clarified, "Gerald's expand far past even that of an infant."

"That proves that his body was tampered with, but does that necessarily show that he is less than human?" Harry questioned with another sip.

"Cause and effect, Mr. Potter," the unspeakable laughed. "The telomeres are the direct effect of adding DNA of a nonhuman creature that lives remarkably longer than a wizard. Following that effect backwards, I was able to find this cause to be true by pulling apart what lengthened these strands and therefore isolating the second type of DNA. Unfortunately, placing it with everything in our database, I was still incapable of finding a match. So this other part of Gerald? Still a mystery as to what it is though I can tell you much of what it is not."

Ron sighed, "Great, so he's half human, half something nobody has ever heard of before. I wonder if he has any idea that he's not normal. Well, you know, in this sense anyway."

"I think he does," the lead auror focused on the drink in his hands, cupping it more tightly, easing, and then repeating in a relaxed concentration. "When we were first talking to him and Oliver about his wandless magic and his looks, I remember feeling that Gerald was annoyed with his friend's theory about them. It was as if he knew the real reason so it made him think Oliver's idea was stupid." Harry looked back up at Ron and Croaker, "After so many years knowing these rare things about himself in addition to others that we might not know yet, I'm sure he's got some inkling at the least."

"I'd say it's safe to assume that, Harry," the unspeakable's grin fell away right as the phone sitting to his side rang. "That's all I have for you now anyway. I will let you tend to business," the older man pushed palms on knees to help himself to stand and then tipped his hat as he strolled out of the office.

Harry stepped over to the phone and picked it up, "Department of Investigation, this is Harry Potter."

"Potter, I need you and Weasely to meet me at Malfoy Manor," Draco's voice sounded with urgency.

Harry paused.

"Are you listening, Potter?" Draco pressed.

"Yes, Draco, I hear you, but why? What's going on?" Harry choked out.

The auror's old classmate groaned, "It's just- It's important. Bring the girls if you want, but come here."

Harry hesitated at the order. He looked over to Ron who had remained quite even through his curious expression watching his partner's befuddlement.

"Uh, OK. We'll be there shortly," Harry relented.

Draco hung up immediately after the answer without any further word or instruction. The auror blinked his eyes awkwardly as the situation was still catching up to him.

"What the bloody hell was that about?" Ron questioned.

"Draco wants us to go see him at Malfoy Manor with Ginny and Hermione," Harry spoke in an almost hushed tone.

"I take it he didn't say what for," the redhead squeaked.

Harry shook his head. "It sounded important. He seemed...upset. Like he was scared more than angry."

"You think he's found something that his father left? Something about going after Gerald maybe?" Ron suggested

"Probably," Harry agreed. "I don't know why else he would contact us."

"Well, let's go," Ron stood, then laughed, "Don't want him getting his knickers in a twist."

The two swiftly left the ministry, regrouped with their wives and apparated to Malfoy Manor.

The mansion was much different than that of Hogwarts and even the old buildings of Hogsmeade in that it had a more modern look about it. It wasn't obvious what construct it was made of, but its exterior was covered with smooth, clean sidings as opposed to any ancient stone or brick. The home was located miles away from anything else in a barren looking land that kept a constantly gloomy air. The sidewalk leading to the double doors on front was lined on either side with shrubberies.

Ginny took hold of her husband's hand, pulling him to take notice that Hermione was bothered. The woman was clutching onto Ron's arm and it was obvious she was trying to push away her unease. Ron pulled her closer to him and kissed her forehead but she kept her eyes forward and swallowed.

"It will be alright," Harry spoke. "It's just a home now. Nothing to worry about. Everything else is in the past."

He looked over to Ginny who gave him a short smile, acknowledging his efforts. Then he led the group forward.

As they got closer to the mansion, they saw that Draco was standing outside, waiting for them. He stood in a stance not unlike that of his late father, a formal and reserved pose. He watched as the group approached him, not speaking until they stopped just a few feet away.

"Thank you for coming," Draco spoke with an air of obligation.

"You're welcome," Harry answered. "You were pretty vague, though so why exactly are we here?"

The ex-deatheater took in a breath, "I admit I was startled. I wasn't sure how to approach this situation." The white haired wizard turned to his side and took the two steps up to the door of his childhood home. "I think it's better that I show you," he put one hand on a door as he looked back, awaiting the others' response.

"OK, show us then," Hermione was the one to speak.

Draco raised an eye at the witch before continuing on inside the hollow home. Hermione let go of her husband's arm and took the first steps in following inside. Ron stepped hesitantly behind and then came Harry and Ginny.

The four followed Draco through the main hall and up the stairway. Harry caught a glimpse of Hermione gazing off to the all too familiar room where she had been tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange. But Draco's voice took everyone's attention then.

"I was reluctant to do so, but I came here to begin setting my father's last affairs straight and take care of what he left," Draco informed as the group clogged up the steps. "And, well, I found something very unexpected."

He took the last step onto the second floor and stepped to the side for the rest to catch up. Once they all were, he began walking down the new hall, leading them to the outside of a large door where he halted once more.

"That's why I wanted you here," he took in a deep breath and reached to his side to push the door open. "This is the master bedroom. You'll see what I mean once you're inside."

Harry peered into the dimly lit room, his body tensing with caution before making a decision about entering. Hermione, though, once again was the first to act, determined to ignore her own fear. She trotted forward into the room with the rest of her companions close on her heels, Draco being the last to enter.

Inside, there was a large bed with huge wooden chamber posts painted black, its grey sheets neatly folded under matching pillows. Nightstands with ornate lamps were on either side. To one end of the room was an open door leading into what looked to be a bathroom. Next to it was a steel desk with several books and some letters laying on it. The other side of the room was decorated with two cushioned chairs just in front of a tall window, covered by a heavy curtain.

The room appeared immaculate, leaving the company wondering what they were meant to see. The group eased out of their circle as Harry turned to face Draco in order to ask what was going on.

However, the moment he turned his gaze toward the white haired wizard, he jumped backward with eyes wide.

The movement drew the attention of his friends who backed away further from Draco in fright. Ginny gasped, grabbing hold of her husband and Hermione quickly drew her wand, shakily aiming it toward their host.

Just at Draco's side, another white haired figure had emerged in the previously empty room and was glaring angrily at the four younger wizards.

"Lucius?" Harry breathed.


	26. Chapter 24: Power Over Death

"Granger, put your wand away," Draco tsked, "You can't hurt a ghost."

"Blimey! a fucking ghost?" Ron exclaimed. "How? I've never seen a ghost that isn't...you know...really old."

The redhead's wife lowered her wand nervously. "The spectres we grew up around were all from a life a great number of years in the past," she agreed, watching the late Lucius Malfoy walk to the side of his son, his ethereal form moving without any sound at all.

The clothes he wore were identical to those he died in, down to the bloody tatters on his chest. His one eye also matched the sight Hermione and the aurors had seen. It was crushed inside the socket, a messy outline of the damaged tissue and bodily gunk from his physical life.

The man, the phantom, said nothing as he took a spot close to the concealed window. Harry studied him carefully, observing that though released from his human life, Lucius seemed distraught. Even so, he retained a strict demeanor.

"Mr. Malfoy," Harry stepped forward. "What happened to you?"

The deceased deatheater turned his vision back to the auror, his chest lifting heavily once, twice, before he lightly rolled his eyes, continuing his silence.

"Can you not speak?" Harry pushed.

The ghost of Lucius Malfoy then looked at his son with a stern expression. The living Malfoy sighed, "He can, but it's not understandable."

"How so?" Ron asked.

"I don't know. Sounds like another language, perhaps? I'm not sure," Draco admitted. "I also don't know why he's still here."

"I remember talking to Nearly-headless Nick once about the same thing," the lead auror shared. "I didn't get why there weren't more spirits around...why I couldn't see my parents... He told me that ghosts were people who died but were afraid to leave what they knew behind. He said their fear kept them tied here as a shadow of the person they once were."

"Einai geloio na nomizo oti tha fovomoun afto," Lucius scoffed, his voice sounded as pompous as it ever had even if nobody understood his actual words.

"Oh, I see what you mean," Ginny spoke softly.

"I figured Granger might be able to pick it out," the ghost's son interjected.

All eyes turned to Hermione, the girl adjusting herself and clearing her throat in response, "I'm not a linguist," she said, "but it doesn't sound familiar. It's not Latin, like most spells are."

Lucius seemed to be having difficulty hiding his frustration for he kept fidgeting and shifting in his feet instead of keeping the steady posture natural to him.

"Potter, who is that man you asked us about? I have a right to know what you know," Draco demanded.

Harry sighed, "We can't know that he-"

"That's bullshit and you know it!" the auror's past rival yelled. "I've tried talking to father now about him and he might not be able to communicate clearly, but I know that bastard killed him."

Harry and Ron exchanged glances with each other and their wives before Harry spoke again, "Alright. Draco, this is exactly what we've been trying to figure out: who he is and what his motives are. We do know he was involved with your father and Voldemort." Harry shifted his eyes to Lucius then, who was listening intently, "And we know that he threatened you shortly before you died."

The ghost's eyes flashed between anger and depressed realization of his state. His pale face finally rested on a mood of agitated disdain at the current situation.

"Can you tell us anything about Gerald?" Ron asked with surprising calm.

Lucius sighed and shook his head.

"Was he who killed you?" Hermione asked next.

Lucius took a step back, looking down at the floor and shaking his head more violently before shouting, "Ochi! Ochi!"

His hands reached up to his head, grabbing it as if it were hurting him though ghosts couldn't feel pain, could they? He yelled the strange word one more time, his son appearing to start panicking as his father's ghost disappeared into the air, leaving a gush of cold wind behind.

"What did he just tell you?" Draco spat, "He literally cannot communicate about his death or about Gerald Davis. Believe me, I've already been trying."

All of the young wizards including the heir to the manor looked around the room, but there was no sign of Lucius' phantom. His son took in a deep breath and rubbed his brow with two fingers. Harry watched as he did so. The evil man his father had been or not, this whole ordeal couldn't be easy in any way for him.

"Sorry, Draco," the dark haired investigator apologized. "Did he leave you anything that would clue us to what happened or reveal anything about Gerald?"

The ex-deatheater dropped his hand from his forehead and looked at Harry, "Yeah, he did," he trailed off a moment, but not long enough for any further prompting from his guests, "Come here."

Draco slipped past the aurors and walked out of the room. Back in the hall, the group found their way to a second, slightly smaller bedroom. Hurriedly, the young Malfoy led them inside. Its setup was similar to that of his parents, but there were more items in the room including a few things that looked to be antique children's toys. They all concluded it had been Draco's room.

The white headed man led them straight to a frame sitting on the navy blue decorated bed with its front hidden from view. He took hold of the piece, turning it around to face the group. It was a portrait of Lucius Malfoy. The recently deceased was dressed in formal robes, criticizing eyes gazing back at his audience as he breathed easily.

"I had to prove to him who I was, but he did tell me some things about this Gerald," Draco informed his old classmates and then turned back to the animated painting, "Father, tell me again about Gerald Davis."

"My son, this man is destructive, loyal only to himself, and he is dangerous...unpredictable," the wizard paused. "When I first joined with the dark lord, he introduced me to Gerald Davis. I can't say I outright distrusted him at the start as Voldemort never seemed anything less than trustful of his friend. However, I never liked the man. Necromancy is not commonplace magic and Gerald was a skilled necromancer. Not only that, but he has the capability of performing magic without a wand, much like a lowly elf or goblin. The dark lord obviously was capable of performing some necromantik spells, but his companion's power in this area was...unprecedented though he fell short in most other studies. Nonetheless, he was a valuable ally...so long as it suited him.

"Gerald wasn't a servant to the dark lord. He didn't care about our mission nor did the lives affected concern him. He made this abundantly clear to me on many occasions with violent outbursts, sometimes even physically attacking me usually unprovoked and even having the audacity to disrespect Lord Voldemort to his face. And even though the dark lord often treated these outbursts simply as jokes between old companions, I knew it wasn't so. This was fully proven to me once when he was in a foul mood and attacked Gerald after one of these 'jokes.' I thought surely he was going to kill him...but he didn't. He did, however lock him away in the dungeons of my home, torturing him daily for weeks before finally releasing him. It was several years before I saw or heard anything of Gerald again. I do believe that this attitude was why he remained an ally hidden from the others.

"I initially thought Gerald followed the dark lord out of boredom, but after a handful of encounters, I pieced together that Voldemort held something over him. I did not figure out what this was. As I've stated though, the man never reflected care for anyone or anything so whatever it was must have been tied to his own well-being.

"In the beginning, Voldemort used Gerald to create an army of inferi. The Necromancer easily slaughtered hundreds of muggle peasants, reanimating their corpses to aid in protecting and defending as the dark lord wished. He conferred with the dead to gather secrets and entry into cursed areas so that we could build our army's strength.

"You are well aware of the horcruxes created by Lord Voldemort. I discovered this earlier than the others. The first of these were made while he was still a student at Hogwarts. The death of a girl named Myrtle Warren and that of his own muggle father. However, the use of such powerful magic took a heavy toll on the creator, leaving them vulnerable for a period of time, as if wounded.

"Voldemort found that through using Gerald's skills, this effect was greatly reduced as the strain was put on him, leaving the dark lord only to deal with adjusting to the new thinning of his soul. Furthermore, being a master in this magic, Gerald was stressed far less in doing so as it was much easier for him. Voldemort told me himself that he would not have succeeded in so many splits without this help. But there is something more that has confused me...that being how he is still alive.

"Gerald's usefulness ended when he defied Lord Voldemort and refused to lend his aid anymore. This happened to do with James and Lily Potter."

Harry's body clenched at the sound of the deatheater speaking his parents' names. His eyes flitted about the room without turning his head and he could see that all the others except Draco had darted their attention to him momentarily.

"A major part of necromancy is divination," the portrait continued. "After the prophecy regarding his fall, Lord Voldemort ordered Gerald to attempt communion in order to learn more. Though he didn't refuse this command, the dark lord voiced to me his suspicions that Gerald wasn't actually doing what he asked. He told me that Gerald had wanted him dead for some time.

"I was careful with my approach, but more or less asked why Gerald had never left nor made attempts on his life if that were so, as it was obvious he had no respect or even fear of the dark lord. His response was vague. I hadn't really expected more. All he said was, 'Because I own him.' He then proceeded in informing me that he had called Gerald and that when he came, if he had nothing to share, he was going to ask him to go with me to kill the Potters and kidnap Harry.

"He showed up. He gave nothing...and he refused to take part in this plan. I had seen the man kill wizard, witch, and muggle alike. Some for no other reason than, and I quote, 'I felt like it is all.' I firmly doubt it had anything to do with the boy's age either. No, I do believe it was as Lord Voldemort had said.

"The funniest part is, is that he offered the dark lord friendship while declining to lend his magic or aid. I waited patiently for him to be murdered. He gave a feeble attempt to defend himself by throwing the killing curse at Lord Voldemort and was easily subdued. I called for the brawn of a pair of mindless drones at my disposal under Voldemort's order. He wanted Gerald taken to the same graveyard where Tom Riddle Sr. had been laid to rest.

"When he came to and saw his new surroundings, he rose to his feet and faced the dark lord. He didn't run. He didn't even fight or raise his hands. He just stood there, totally quiet. Lord Voldemort laughed at him, saying, 'You want out so badly, then I will let you out.'

"The next three, maybe four hours, we cycled in attacking the discontent wizard. Beating him down, cutting him, and tearing him from the inside with torturous spells. Even most of our rebellious and adamant enemies had not undergone such treatment. When we left, he had stopped moving, he had stopped breathing, he laid bloodied and dirty with his heart barely beating. The dark lord was intent on refusing to alleviate his old friend's suffering...so we left him to die just so.

"Nobody was there to help him. Even if someone had tried, the attempt would have been futile because of his severe condition. Seeing that he was alive after all this time was shocking and continues to baffle me. I can draw no other conclusion than that his death magic was even greater than I had believed. A horcrux of his own? Becoming some undead being himself? I don't know. I do know that though he may have no drive of his own, he could be a very powerful tool if played correctly. His very existence is a threat."


	27. Chapter 25: Undercover

The portrait stilled once again, having finished its monologue concerning Gerald.

"Is that everything he left?" Harry asked.

Draco stared coldly back at the auror, "About him, yes."

Harry nodded his head, gathering that there was more there about other things. That didn't matter to him right then though. He was focused on this ally of the dark lord.

Lucius' ghost suddenly reappeared beside his son then as if sensing that the other impression of him was finished speaking of his past acquaintance.

"We're going to find out what is going on and give your family justice," Harry spoke with an odd warmth to the dead deatheater, but the kindness was meant more for his son.

The ghost shook his head in dismissal, "Angelos tis avyssou, o daimonas tou kenou."

All eyes laid on the phantom, who angrily repeated the words once and then a second time with a gesture mimicking writing.

"Wait!" Hermione yelled, realizing that Lucius wanted them to know this phrase he was replying. She retrieved a piece of paper and a pen from her bag before looking back at the dead man, "Angelos tis avvy-?"

"Angelos tis avyssou, o daimonas tou kenou," he said once more in a calm voice.

The witch jotted down the words, spelling them as best she could, "Is there anything else?"

Lucius looked from the woman off to his side before walking away, his form vanishing again. She gave one last look at the parchment before putting it and the pen away in her purse.

"What now, Potter?" Draco asked.

Harry scratched his head. He honestly wasn't entirely sure. They weren't supposed to divulge details of this case, but keeping Malfoy out of matters seemed a moot point now. Besides, having his full cooperation and help might work best in putting this all to rest.

"Do you know anything about vampires?" the auror inquired bluntly.

"What the hell are you babbling about?" Draco seemed frustrated.

Ron, quickly catching on that his partner was no longer worried with keeping secrets from Malfoy, interjected, "We bumped into Gerald recently and he'd been attacked by a vampire. Not that he outright shared that detail..."

Draco shook his head, eyes rolling as if in disbelief, "I don't know anything about vampires and as far as I'm aware, neither did my father."

"First, we need to figure out what your father is trying to tell us-what those words mean," Harry skipped any further explanation of his original question and kept on, "But I think we need to arrange for the two of you to meet."

Draco lifted an eyebrow, "As much as I would enjoy putting this bastard in his place, why don't you just arrest him?"

Harry sighed at the man's readiness to fight a person his own father found powerful, but ignored the menacing statement, "We have no viable reason for doing so and we've observed that Gerald doesn't respond well to feeling threatened. It will be safer to wait until we have something concrete to use to keep him in custody so that he doesn't lash out and harm anybody."

"Nothing viable? You have my father's word not only of his use of necromancy and dark magic, but of countless murders!" Draco objected.

"His word might have gotten deatheaters convicted in the past, but we're not at war anymore," Hermione said flatly, "And the fact that he had said nothing of this before when he saw that Gerald was still alive doesn't speak too well either."

The young Malfoy grunted in defeat, "Fine. How do you propose going about this meeting? I assume you're not just going to bring me to him."

"No, we can't do that," the lead auror agreed, "and this needs to be more than simple. You need to confront him, assuming you're comfortable with doing so."

Draco crossed his arms, "Of course I am. You want me to accuse him of killing my father like I did when you delivered news of his death, I'm guessing."

Harry nodded.

"Don't you think that's dangerous?" Ginny's soft voice cut in.

"Yeah, it is," her brother agreed, "It's likely for him to start viewing Malfoy as an enemy or a threat."

"But a rising body count would raise more suspicion," Hermione mused, "which is definitely not desirable to him. I find it more likely that he loses his temper at the initial confrontation and attacks then."

"That's why this will be arranged," Harry continued, "We'll all be around to help ensure your safety and if he does attack you, don't hesitate. We're on your side."

The auror's words were grave and his old rival surprisingly did not take them lightly, "Obviously not a preferred outcome. So what do I need to get him to say? How should I start?"

A quiet settled upon the room as the aurors and their wives thought about this detail. Draco waited as patiently as he was capable of as they came up with the rest of the strategy.

"Call him out, but not vengefully," Hermione was the one to come up with the best approach, "Play under the assumption that he doesn't know how you feel about your father. Pretend you're angry with Lucius and don't care to bring his killer to justice but let him know that you know he's the murderer...and that you're grateful he's dead. But you want to know why he wanted your father out of the way. The idea is to get him to corroborate Lucius' stories about him or get a confession about the murder."

"Both would be best, of course," Harry added, "It'd be enough to arrest him and for us to push for use of veritaserum to learn everything else we need to know."

Draco inhaled sharply and exhaled slowly, removing his gaze from the others and turning on his heels to stare at the window where his father had walked before disappearing. "OK," he finally said. "Let's do this."

The aurors nodded. "We'll have to see where he is now and find out where he will be before we can do anything," Ron said.

"I will be waiting and ready," Draco grinned.

He then showed his guests back out of the manor where they strolled away from the mansion a comfortable distance before conferring among one another.

"Hermione, you and Ginny go home," Harry instructed, "Work on deciphering that parchment. Ron and I are going to pay Gerald and his friends a visit."

"Right," Ginny said, giving her husband a quick hug, "Hopefully he's ended his hiatus after seeing you in Hogsmeade."

Harry chuckled, "Yeah."

The wizards waited for their wives to disapparate home before they did the same except their destination was Salt Box Road. Once on the familiar stretch in Dunsfold, the two made their way up the sidewalk, ending the trek with a knock on the door. As always, it didn't take but mere moments for the door to be answered.

"You guys don't venture out much," Harry smiled at Oliver the moment the home was opened to them.

Oliver returned the greeting with a strained smile and a laugh, "No, of the three of us, Brad is the only extrovert. But he's been sticking close while we sort things out."

The friendly wizard began walking back inside halfway through his speech, by now the familiarity between him and the aurors allowed for a more informal invitation inside. Upon reaching the den, Harry and Ron spotted Gerald sitting in one of the chairs, a hand held a cell phone to his ear and the other stroked a fat white and black rat laying on his shoulder. The gash on his face was completely healed, leaving hardly a scar at all. Magic.

His eyes met Harry's, his face expressionless as he spoke into the phone, "Yes, alright, email it to me and I'll send a confirmation right away."

He took his hand from his pet and let the phone slide down from his ear into it. Pressing a button, he slipped the device into the front pocket of his black jeans, keeping his head straight and eyes forward the entire time.

"I see you made it home alright," Ron tried to start the conversation.

The dark wizard continued staring, but remained silent.

"Just checking in, as usual," Harry said, "Your face is healing well."

The man kept quietly eyeing the aurors.

"Ger, talk to them. Just get it over with," Oliver sighed, stepping between the men and taking a seat on the arm of the couch.

The white haired wizard began petting his furry friend again, gaze never faltering from his guests, "I don't see why I should. Their job is to incriminate me. I can continue to deny any guilt while they continue to ignore it and keep searching into other ways of learning about me or I can save my breath and just wait for them to decide what they're going to do. Will be a lot less stressful for everyone."

"Or," Harry retorted, "You could be honest with us. An honest criminal is given much more leniency than a difficult one."

A huge grin slowly spread across the dark wizard's face. "My point proven. Either you've always assumed me guilty, or you've found something to disprove my innocence. It's a wasted effort for me to speak to you any longer."

Harry mentally chastised himself for his wording. He had thought about it prior to speaking, but had apparently still made the wrong choice in deciding to phrase it that way. "Very well, we'll note your refusal to cooperate any longer."

Gerald picked the rodent up from his shoulder, kissing it on the top of the head and then placed it in his lap. The rat walked in a short half circle and then let his body slide easily down the wizard's knee, scurrying from the room and to the kitchen as soon as it hit the floor. Gerald looked from his pet back up to Harry and Ron as he leaned back in his seat. The aurors looked at each other, then to Oliver.

Before either of them could even part their lips, Oliver spoke up, "I apologize for it, but I do understand Gerald's decision. However, should you wish to speak to me, I remain at your disposal."

Harry almost hummed aloud as the man's calm respect for Gerald's declination to continue treating them amiably, if you could describe his behaviour thus far as such, registered in his mind that whatever had happened between the bandmates since the dark wizard's recent return had only solidified their bond and therefore Oliver's loyalty to Gerald. Any possibility the aurors had discussed of gathering more information or better help from Oliver against his friend had diminished.

"We appreciate that," Ron said. "We are curious as to your plans. It would be helpful to know as we are currently obligated to keep an eye on things. Have you three found work?"

Oliver took a deep breath, no doubt annoyed by this, but not surprised either. "We have," he said. "That was our new manager Ger was on the phone with, actually. He has us set to be part of a music festival with other artists in London this coming month. We've never performed outside of North America so it's sort of meant to determine the new audience's opinion of us before we can properly move forward in getting other gigs or going on a tour at all."

"What is the name of the festival?" Harry asked.

"Maysfield Music and More, I believe. Maysfield, anyway," Oliver shrugged.

"Well, best of luck to all of you," Harry smiled, letting his eyes leave Oliver and rest on Gerald briefly.

The dark wizard kept his disinterested demeanor as the aurors nodded and took their leave. 


	28. Chapter 26: It's all Greek to Me

"Why would Lucius' ghost be speaking Greek?" the auror asked.

"How should I know, Harry?" Hermione scoffed. "But that's what it is."

It hadn't required much effort on the witches' part to figure out the strange words. Their husbands met with them at the Weasely-Granger residence after only a short time at the Ministry.

"Any clue as to what is so important about this angel demon business?" Ron spoke through a mouthful of crisps.

His wife sighed at her husband's poor manners. "Angel of the abyss, demon of the void," she spoke the translation again, "It must have something to do with Gerald of course, but all I've been able to find regarding these words elsewhere is in muggle religious texts."

"What do they say about it?" Harry furthered.

"Nothing, really. Just that there is a spiritual creature regarded as such," the witch clarified, "A being that is both an angel and a demon, but these are just old muggle stories. Beings like this don't exist."

"Maybe not, but it must mean something," Harry argued.

A quiet came upon the home as the four wizards thought. Angels, demons...what was Lucius' meaning? For a moment, Harry took into consideration the fact that the deatheater had died. Perhaps he learned something about the next life. Maybe he was trying to tell them these things were more than just old tales. However, he quickly remembered his conversation with Nearly-headless Nick. The ghost had told him that they knew nothing of the afterlife as they'd not seen it. They chose to remain in the lives they had parted...so therefore they had never truly parted. Why would this be any different for Lucius Malfoy?

"You know," Ginny spoke up, "Dad might be able to help. If the only reference is in something to do with muggles..."

Everyone turned their attention to the lead auror as it was his say to bring anyone else into the fold. Harry looked down to the floor, rubbing his chin.

"It's not like we have to worry about trusting him," Ron poked.

Ron's partner dropped his hand back to his knee and turned head up to face the others. "I trust Mr. Weasely, obviously," he said with a nod. "With how things are progressing, I think he needs to know more about what's going on anyway."

"That would make me feel better too," Ginny admitted, smiling at her husband and petting his arm.

"He should be finishing up with work about now," Ron choked down the rest of his snack. "Could go meet him at home. Mum might even be working on dinner."

"Your obsession with food is astounding," Hermione muttered, earning a stare from her husband and chuckles from the others.

"Dinner or not," Ginny grinned, "The company will be nice."

"Alright, let's head over," Harry stood, taking his wife's hand.

Hermione got up as well, snatching the empty bag of crisps out of Ron's hand as he looked into it one last time to be sure they were all gone.

"Blimey then I'm going," the redhead complained before following the others through the home and into the backyard for an area easier for apparation.

In pairs, the group disappeared from the residence, popping back into their forms just outside the burrow they all knew so well. After being destroyed by Bellatrix, the old Weasely home was rebuilt though some things were lost forever, taken by the fire.

The four walked up to the door, Ron taking the lead in pushing it open and yelling inside. Molly Weasely hurried into the room as everyone entered, the same enthusiasm in her as there always had been when seeing her children, both the blood ones and the honorary.

"Oh my dear, come on in, come on in!" she smiled and gestured. "I'll put on some tea. How is this case of yours going, Harry? I hear it's been troublesome," she talked with a flutter while giving each of the kids a quick embrace.

"Ya know it's my case too, Mum," Ron mumbled.

"Oh hush," Molly flicked her wrist at her son. "I haven't seen Harry and Ginny in weeks."

The young couple grinned, "That's actually why we came over," Harry informed, "We have something we thought Mr. Weasely might know more about."

"What might I know about?" Arthur's voice sounded from farther inside the house.

With all the excitement, the rest hadn't registered the pop of the fireplace bringing the man back home. He dropped his briefcase next to one of the old couches and happily took a hug and kiss from his wife before she left for the tea.

Arthur motioned for everyone to sit in the living room furniture. Just when everyone including himself had taken a seat, Molly returned with a floating array of tea cups and its accompanying pot.

"I don't believe we've really spoken since you and Ron started this investigation, Harry," the older wizard said as he acquired a cup and filled it.

"No, sir," the auror agreed, getting his own drink. "I admit I've been preoccupied."

"That's understandable," Arthur smiled. "What can I help with?"

"Dad, the boys are investigating someone who worked with Voldemort...someone previously unheard of," Ginny began.

"A deatheater?" Arthur seemed confused.

Harry and Ron breathed. "Not exactly. It seems he only knew Lucius and Voldemort himself," the lead auror tried to explain.

"Lucius? Yes, I heard about his passing," Arthur mused. "Did your man do it?"

The group nodded.

"I see. Why did he keep this man hidden instead of sharing him with the rest after the war?" the senior Weasely took a sip.

"He thought Gerald was dead. That's the bloke's name: Gerald Davis," Ron answered. "He did leave something behind though...well a couple of things, but-"

"Draco called us to Malfoy Manor," Harry cut his partner off. "Lucius is still there...his ghost."

Arthur's eyes widened. Molly's hand grabbed his shoulder nervously so he gave it a loving pat. "Are you certain of that?" she asked.

"Quite certain," Harry nodded gravely. "It's what he said to us that brought us here. He...he's speaking entirely in Greek, but there was one thing he was adamant that we know."

The auror turned to Hermione then. The witch reached into her purse and retrieved the paper where she had written the words and their translation and handed it to Mr. Weaseley. The man took the note, mouthing the words quietly while his wife also read gazing over his shoulder.

"Apollyon," Arthur spoke and then looked back up. "This is what Lucius wanted you to know?"

The younger wizards glanced around at each other.

"Apollyon was the name I found regarding that description too," Hermione said. "That's what he was saying. I have no doubt."

"Surely he left something more straightforward behind," Arthur continued.

"He did," Harry said. "He left a portrait. Draco showed us what it had to say about Gerald."

Arthur nodded, studying the note once more, "Tell me more about this Gerald."

The group detailed what they had come to know about the strange wizard. Everything Lucius had told his son, the necromancy, the agelessness, wandlessness, his parents, the vampires...down to what they had experienced with Oliver and Brad. The thing that seemed to resonate with and even bother Arthur Weasely the most was the wizard's inhumanity.

"Muggle religion is an interesting facet," the wizard talked again after all known and suspected about Gerald had been shared. "The stories all began with actual events. Over the years, these records have been retold, reinterpreted, and changed so much that it's sometimes difficult to weed out the fiction and see the truths. However...the largest problem lies in that muggles don't always see things for what they are. Especially so long ago..." the wizard took a drink of tea. "Those who have seen wizards and witches and other magical folk even in more recent years have hailed us as demons or even the devil himself. I'm certain there have been times that a wizard or a veela even was seen as an angel in a muggle's mind."

"It is interesting, sir," Harry cooed, "But why would Lucius think this was so important if these demons are just wizards or elves or something else like that?"

"What if they weren't always magical folk like we knew," Hermione considered, staring at the floor. Slowly looking up, she met Arthur's gaze, "We don't know what this other type of blood Gerald has is. Just because muggles _have_ mistaken us before doesn't mean there weren't or aren't other creatures out there."

"There's certainly no magical person we've known that can mimic the feats of how God is portrayed, " Arthur shrugged.

"So do you think Gerald's a demon? I mean," Ron laughed, "He's certainly no angel, right?"

"That's not the point," Hermione slapped the redhead's arm. "Angel, demon, these muggle words mean nothing. It's irrelevant. The point is that he IS inhuman and something we have not yet known. That's what Lucius was trying to tell us."

"Yes. He couldn't talk about Gerald," Ginny observed. "He had to find another way to-"

The girl stopped suddenly, her eyes caught in front of her. Harry looked to where her vision lay, but nothing was there. "Honey?" he asked worriedly. "What is it?"

"Why can't he talk about Gerald?" Ginny breathed.

The room fell still at this little detail as the only answer hit all of their minds at once.

"Dear heavens," Molly gasped, hand jumping to cover her gaping mouth.

"I don't..." Arthur mumbled, "Necromancy is known but not so deeply...not enough to know if..."

"Gerald killed Lucius. What if...what if he also trapped him as a ghost?" Harry spoke what they were all thinking.

"But there's no spell that can-" Hermione started a weak objection.

"No spell that can raise the dead as they were when alive," Harry nodded fervently. "I know, but there are spells...there is magic that can call on a ghost or to talk to the dead. I saw my parents' ghosts and Cedric after he died. They came to me because of a spell."

"With what we know of Gerald's skills as a necromancer," Arthur picked up, "and how the Malfoy ghost is acting...I feel this is more than possible."

"That's beyond cruel!" Molly almost cried. "The man was hateful and vile and I wish nothing good for him...but this? To take his life then force him to keep living as a shadow?"

"There, there," her husband grabbed her hands in his and squeezed them.

"That means," Harry's previous thought about Lucius having learned something of the afterlife returned to him, "Perhaps Gerald is a demon...like what these religions say a demon is. Apollyon? Is that Greek too? Is this language special in anyway regarding these things?"

"It's Greek as well, yes," Arthur nodded. "Greek was one of the original languages these texts were written in. Aside from that, I don't know."

Harry switched his attention to his partner.

"We need to find out more about Grindelwald's experiments."


	29. Chapter 27: Not Such a Mystery

The week ended and the next came with no word from Igor Karkaroff. The aurors had sent an owl and even called multiple times in order to get in touch with him about the school's records on Gellert Grindelwald. While waiting for a response, they consulted Saul Croaker again and updated the Minister for Magic in person concerning the Davis case.

Minister Shackelbolt had been keeping up with every note and file sent to him by the Office of Investigations as everything progressed, but touching ground face to face occasionally was for good measure.

"This situation is causing me much grief," the minister growled, easing back in his office chair and pressing fingertips together in front of him to create a partial pyramid. "This wizard or whatever he is is a walking time bomb and we're softly picking at him waiting for an explosion."

"Do you feel we should be handling this differently?" Harry asked.

Behind his arch, the minister's eyes slightly enlarged then fell back to their rest. "No," he said, "You're conducting it how it needs to be. We need to know that he has no room to move once we do arrest him. Gerald might be ignorant of how magical law works, but Oliver Smith certainly isn't. We don't want his friend using our own rules against us for Gerald's best interest. From what I've seen, the man will choose his friend over consideration to what's right and wrong."

"I feel the same about him," the dark haired auror agreed.

"The good news is," Shackelbolt dropped his hands, "If his inhumanity can be proven...even just well enough, it will be easier to handle him in custody. As of now, wizards and those creatures of 'less than human intelligence' are still not seen as equals under the law. If we can show he's not a wizard, but a creature, the fact that he looks human and lives as a human will mean nothing."

"I hate that that is true," Harry spoke softly, but never looked away from the minister.

The older wizard paused for a moment, studying the younger man, "This isn't a time for politics, Mr. Potter. We have to do what we must to keep the people protected even if that means using an unjust law to our advantage."

The two rested eyes on each other for a moment of silent contemplation before Harry responded, "I know, sir."

The aurors left the minister's office and headed back to their own. It would be just over a week before the concert in London which was when they planned to have Draco confront Gerald. Harry had worked up doubt that it would actually be of any use to them. If he had trouble sharing things with the two people closest to him, why should he say anything to Draco? Harry foresaw the meeting ending in a fight over anything else as both men were known to be temperamental.

But if Draco was able to make his father's killer feel that he knew something that would lead to his arrest or reveal what he was to others... Like Hermione said, more deaths meant more ammo against Gerald who has made it clear by both words and actions that he doesn't want himself to be known in such a way. So maybe he would divulge something in order to satisfy Draco and keep him from caring about anything more.

 _His father's killer._

The phrase made Harry's thoughts jump to that of his own father's murder...his mother's murder... If Lucius was the one to be trusted about Gerald's past, it had almost been one of them who had killed Harry's parents and taken Harry to Voldemort. Away from his mother's presence...would the boy have survived the killing curse? And if he had, being in the lair of the dark lord, would he just have been slain by another's hand when their master failed?

And why had Gerald wanted Voldemort dead? The man that had brought him into the magical world, taught him wizardry and revealed to him his past, Gerald's first friend whom he still clung to and grieved for... No. Harry couldn't believe that Gerald wanted Voldemort dead.

Gerald wanted himself dead.

That's why he stuck around...why he tested the dark lord's patience and never truly fought back... These three years since Voldemort's death, Gerald had even tried to take his own life... What haunted him so terribly that this was his wish?

 _Because I own him._ It had been Voldemort's answer to the continuous disgruntled behaviour and the reason Gerald followed him for so many years. But the friendship that the white-haired man held to had never existed... Voldemort never even hid his intentions for using Gerald from him so why couldn't he see past that? Voldemort DID own him because the man had never known anything but isolation. It had been a young Tom Riddle that opened his eyes and let him into the world. To Gerald, this was a friend as it was all he ever knew. And it explained the confusion he had about how to treat Oliver and Brad.

Turning the corner inside the Investigations Office with its desks and paper piles, Harry found himself feeling sorry for their subject. His mind flashed a picture of the scars on the man's chest. Drinking, drugs, suicide attempts...the mostly indifferent attitude and the moodiness. Was Gerald a monster or just messed up from life? Depressed?

The auror sighed. It doesn't matter. In the end, he has done what he's done and is continuing in a destructive path. Lucius was right- he is unstable and his mind is warped. That, if nothing else, makes him dangerous. Sympathy for having a rough life couldn't outweigh keeping the innocent safe.

"You're overthinking things again, aren't ya, mate?" Ron glanced at his partner while opening an envelope he had picked up from the desk.

"Maybe," Harry whispered.

"Well, we've gotten an answer from Karkaroff," the redhead's gaze was on the letter in his hands again. "Apparently they've been having some trouble at Durmstrang..." his eyes scrolled over the ink on the parchment, "A break-in or something. A group of wizards tore apart the main hall and several of the teachers' rooms including the headmaster's office. He says many files were stolen or destroyed...Gellert Grindelwald's was among them."

Harry paused only momentarily before speaking as Ron looked up at him, "That is quite a coincidence."

The other auror shrugged.

"Do they have any clue as to who they were or why they did this?" Harry asked.

"Doesn't say. Just that several items of value were stolen and that they're working on resolving the matter," Ron handed the letter over to his partner.

The head investigator took the paper, reading it quickly before sighing and reaching for the phone. He dialed Durmstrang Institute, hoping that the letter was indicative that things had settled enough for the headmaster to be available for his call.

"I take it you've received my owl," Igor Karkaroff answered almost immediately. "I expected another ring when you did."

"Yes, headmaster, thank you," Harry returned, putting the letter down onto his own desk. "I was wondering if-"

"I do have a few more details for you," Karkaroff presumed the auror's question, "but I need something from you in return."

Harry hesitated, "What is that?"

"Like you do, I feel that it is no accident this has happened directly about the time when you called for the records on Grindelwald. I want to be informed of what is going on with Gerald Davis. Who he is and the reason for the sudden interests in him," Karkaroff clarified.

The lead auror took a deep breath in, "I'm not at liberty to share anything, headmaster."

"Hm..." Karkaroff hummed, seeming to begin trailing away from the conversation.

"I can talk to Minister Shackelbolt though, sir," Harry jumped back in, "And ask that you be kept in the loop as our ally."

"Hm. Fair enough," the headmaster agreed. "The intruders' group was fairly small. Maybe ten men. We believe a student may have been the reason they were able to get inside so easily without setting anything off. However," the headmaster cleared his throat, "We were able to stop two of the robbers as they fled."

"That's good," Harry stated awkwardly. "Have you learned anything from them?"

"It's hard to get secrets from a dead man, Mr. Potter," the ex-deatheater replied slyly.

The auror paused. Then, upon remembering Durmstrang's notoriety for loose handling of dark magic, spoke in an almost demeaning manner, "Maybe attacking to kill wasn't the best line of action."

The headmaster scoffed loudly, the hard breath staticking the phone for an instant, "They killed themselves. Our school guards merely stopped them from running and disarmed them of their wands. Do you know what a bagh nakh is, Mr. Potter?"

"I don't," Harry answered.

"Well, you should teach yourself," Karkaroff chuckled. "The intruders slit their own throats. The cuts were too quick and too deep for us to save them. Even if they hadn't been, our herbologist found a subtle yet extremely toxic poison on their weapons."

"Whatever they knew, it must have been very precious to them," Harry observed, "that they felt they must die to ensure it remained hidden."

"The thing is, Mr. Potter," Karkaroff kept on, "We believe the wizards were being controlled by someone else."

"Use of the Imperius Curse?" Harry said.

"No, Mr. Potter. The one pulling the strings was no wizard," the ex-deatheater explained, "We found markings on the intruders' necks. Two small punctures maybe a couple of centimeters apart from each other."

 _Fang wounds?_ Harry thought. _Vampires again?_

"You think some creature was using them?" the auror responded vaguely, waiting for Karkaroff to specify his exact belief.

A laugh sounded on the other end. "Vampires do exist, Harry. Something known more in my country than elsewhere with Romania being their origin... But these beings don't reveal themselves lightly. That should be obvious even to you," Karkaroff almost spat, "so whatever it is going on with this man you are investigating...it must be of grave importance to warrant such a move from them."

"I understand," Harry murmured.

"Very well," Karkaroff's voice became formal again, "I'll be expecting word from you regarding our arrangement before you contact me asking for more information."

"O-of course," Harry stuttered, sounding a bit desperate to keep the other wizard happy, "Thank you."

Hanging up the phone, Harry turned to Ron and quickly spoke, "Doesn't your brother Charlie work in Romania?"

"Well yeah," the redhead squeaked, "That's where the dragon sanctuary is."

"Does he have much contact with the people native there?" Harry continued.

"I would think so, yeah. He lives there most of the time," Ron answered, "Why?"

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Bagh nakh (bagh naka) is a weapon originally created in India. It consists of a metal frame that fits around the knuckles with four or five curved blades hidden underneath the user's palm. The name translated means 'tiger claw' and was designed to mimic such in order to tear through skin and muscle with ease.**


	30. Chapter 28: Fear

After conferring with Minister Shackelbolt again and confirming what could and could not be shared with Headmaster Karkaroff, it was more or less a waiting game. Surveillance of Dunsfold focused on Salt Box Road had shown no suspicious activities, Unspeakable Croaker made no advancements, and no other crime had come to the aurors' attention.

That Friday came upon them somewhat slowly. Mr. and Mrs. Weasely had contacted Charlie who decided to take a leave of absence to visit his family. It was Hermione who suggested they go to a new steakhouse opening Friday night. Her parents had been invited to the Grand Opening because the manager, having recently moved into Hampstead to take the position, hired the newly re-established Granger Dentistry Clinic as his care providers.

Hermione's parents had moved to Australia after their daughter erased the memory of her. However, once their minds were restored, they journeyed again to England to settle back into life as residents of Heathgate, Hampstead. Minus the magical parts, of course, it was this story shared with the steakhouse manager that prompted him to invite the dentists as a welcome back to the community.

The Grangers were told to bring guests if they wished. Molly Weasely was afraid that eight guests however might have been pushing the warmth of the extended invitation, but after being assured it was not so, she was excited for the evening. With it being a muggle establishment, the group should find easier to speak about matters without much fear of other magical folk learning about the case.

Outside the doors of Rarity Steakhouse, only four days before the planned confrontation with Gerald at the Maysfield Music Festival, Harry tried desperately to relax. He and his wife waited patiently outside with Ron, Hermione, and the Grangers for the rest of the Weaselys to arrive.

After a few minutes, they spotted Molly hurrying up the sidewalk with Arthur, Charlie, and George. The wizards were dressed in clothes somewhat plain compared to the dress robes of the magical world. However, Arthur assured them they were all of proper attire for the muggle event. The rest of the troupe likewise wore similar trousers, button down shirts, and casual dresses for the ladies.

As the two groups met to form into one, Molly greeted everyone as she always did and needlessly apologized for being moments late. Few words of 'hellos' and 'how are yous' with brief, friendly answers were exchanged before Howard and Nelly Granger led the way inside the restaurant that was steadily growing with excited energy.

"Welcome to Rarity Steakhouse, Mr. Granger!" the manager cheerily greeted the family. "We're so pleased that you and your company could be with us tonight."

"We are honored to take part, thank you," Howard beamed back at the man.

"Please, if you will come right this way," the manager stepped to the side and led them to an oval shaped table with cushioned seats in the back of the main room.

As the company slid into the booth, the manager called on a waitress who skipped quickly over just before he left.

"Welcome to Rarity, my name is Jenna. I hope we can make your evening here wonderful. What can I get everyone to drink?" she spoke politely through a plastered smile.

"Plain soda for the two of us," Howard answered.

And around the table they went- most everyone ending up with regular soda or water.

"So. Vampires, huh?" Charlie smiled at his brother by marriage as soon as the waitress had left.

"Right," Harry responded. "Igor Karkaroff mentioned something about his country being aware of vampires...that they came from Romania?"

"That's the story, yeah," the dragon tamer mused, watching the waitress who had already returned and was dispersing drinks.

She gave out the drinks simultaneously asking if the group had any interest in appetizers so as to not disrupt the conversation she had stepped in on.

Molly ordered a crusted bread and artichoke dip for her husband and unaccompanied sons. Hermione reluctantly ordered something for her bottomless pit of a husband, and the others passed by.

"Not again," Hermione complained the moment the server was clear of their sight.

The others subtly followed her gaze. Being brought inside the building by the same Matron who had invited the Grangers...was Oliver Smith and Gerald Davis.

"Holy hell," Harry shook his head angrily.

"You're right," George grinned, "He is queer...and short."

Molly furiously slapped her mischievous son across the shoulder, "Honestly, you..." the mother growled.

"They are celebrities," Arthur observed, "How well known they are is mostly irrelevant. In such muggle affairs, these types of people are sought after to attend to better the restaurant's reputation."

"Devil something or other," Howard Granger spoke up, "They're musicians, right?"

"You've heard of them?" his daughter asked in surprise.

"One of our younger patients was taking about them being at the Maysfield Festival next week," Howard explained. "He seemed pretty happy about it. He's a fan, apparently."

"But where is Brad?" Harry asked.

"Looks like you're going to get to ask yourself," Ron's gesture back at the two band members was nearly imperceptible.

Turning to face them again, Harry saw Gerald had spotted their group and was tugging against his friend who was desperately trying to keep him from bothering the aurors and their company. Finally, though, Oliver gave up and simply followed Gerald over to the family's booth.

It was Arthur and Molly sitting at the end of one row closest to the strangers in the room with Charlie and George at the end of the other row. The aurors and the Grangers were the furthest inside the booth and away from the approaching wizards.

The presence of others he didn't know surprisingly didn't phase Gerald though as he stepped right up to the table, setting a glare on Harry and Ron.

"Talking to us again, Mr. Davis?" Harry asked sarcastically but with a serious tone as he kept the man's gaze.

"It's just Gerald and no," the dark wizard spat. "I only wanted you to know that Brad has been missing."

There was a brief pause. Oliver touched his friend's arm who immediately threw him back off. Those at the table alternated between trying to ignore the rude American and keeping their eyes casually upon the scenario.

"Sorry, we can't help you," Harry replied with the same air as before. "We don't handle muggle affairs."

The white haired man scoffed, "I don't want your help."

"Then what do you want?" Ron asked.

"I want to not be suspected of it and I want us to be left alone," Gerald's hands crashed down upon the table between Arthur and Charlie.

The sudden, uncalled for motion obviously startled and discomforted Molly which in turn prompted Charlie to stand and speak to the dark wizard.

"Calm down," the man said soothingly but firmly, "Nobody wants any trouble here. We're sure you didn't harm your own friend," he said, glancing back at Harry to continue in his attempt to diffuse the the situation.

Gerald removed his hands from the table, his eyes circling the faces seated around it before beating his investigator to speaking, "I don't know about that," his breathing still showed anger, but his voice had relaxed, "But I wanted to be the one to inform you."

Gerald turned to his side, letting Oliver put a hand on his arm as he started to walk away. Before the couple could take even a step, Arthur Weasely unexpectedly spoke.

"He's right. None of us here would think that. You're only _human_ ," the elder Weasely stressed the last word in as thick a voice as was possible.

Oliver had rested his vision on the red haired wizard the moment he began speaking, but Gerald didn't turn his attention back until the last words. Emotional and unstable. A perfect combination for easy manipulation and Arthur had picked out as good a thing to say as any.

For a minute, Gerald locked gazes with Arthur, neither wavering in their stance as the others around struggled to respond, even just speak. Then in an abrupt and final act, the dark wizard's face spread into a smirk, a small, evil chuckle leaving his lips. He slowly turned his face to Harry.

"You've brought them in, Mr. Potter," he grinned, "That's on you."

Gerald had twisted and taken several paces away before the auror could even get to his feet. Oliver had fallen behind, awkwardly looking across the family members before gathering himself and bolting after his friend.

The two left the restaurant, leaving behind a baffled manager who gazed over to the Granger booth in confusion. Harry sat back down and Charlie did the same after giving the matron a smile and friendly 'it's ok' hand signal.

"I guess the threat is confirmation," Ron mumbled. "Should we go after? Dad just pissed the bastard off."

"It wasn't direct," Mr. Weasely said. "I'm not convinced he's dangerous."

"What?" Harry and Hermione gasped in unison, then the witch furthered, "How can you not believe he's a danger? With what we know?"

"I'm not saying that I don't think he's capable of atrocious acts," the man clarified, "All I'm saying is this encounter? He didn't seem vicious to me. Unstable, a bit loony perhaps..."

"I'm with dad," Charlie agreed, turning to face the others. "He may have acted angry, but he was scared. Whatever is going on, it has him frightened."

Harry's mind darted back to the moment he realized Gerald's caution around other wizards and beings of magic...how he chose to live a muggle life...rarely used his magic anymore...

"I know what's going on," Arthur spoke almost under his breath, staring studiously before him. "The vampire attacking Gerald without leaving any grave injuries, the robbery at Durmstrang, his own disappearance, and now the disappearance of his friend? These vampires are trying to get Gerald's attention. He has something they want...something they can't obtain simply by killing him."

"Something to do with his powers? What he is?" Molly observed.

"Likely," George spoke, "What else could there be?"

"What about Lucius then?" Ron wondered.

"We know vampires were behind the Durmstrang robbery," Harry stepped in, "They stole information we were looking for to help us determine what species Gerald is. It would make sense that if they're after what he can do because of what he is, that they got rid of the information to either learn themselves or to hide the truth from others."

"That means that they could be behind Lucius' death as well," Arthur concurred.

"What about the ghost then? Not being about to talk about Gerald, speaking in Greek," Hermione questioned, "If vampires don't have magic, how could-"

"According to the stories I've heard back in Romania," Charlie informed, "Vampires _do_ have magic, but one that's different from wizards. A lesser magic, if you will. They say it's to do with their fangs. A poison that allows them to control and manipulate others."

"That would explain why the fangs on that body was removed," Ron whispered across the table to his partner.

"Yes, but you can't put poison in a phantom," Hermione objected.

"True," Arthur agreed, "Definitely something dubious about the situation, but it's still possible Lucius death itself was another attempt to get to Gerald."

Silence fell at the table, but the bustle of the restaurant continued around them. Howard and Nelly Granger tried to keep their smiles even though it was clear that they were completely lost with the conversation. It had been Mr. and Mrs. Weasely who had helped them become first acquainted with the world of wizardry when their daughter was discovered to be a witch. Through her own studies and experiences, Hermione had shared more about magic with them, but even so, living as muggles in the muggle world kept the couple largely without awareness of many topics relating to witchcraft.

Hermione leaned over to her parents and gave a weak smile, "Sorry, I-"

"Hey, it's no problem, dear," Howard grinned back. "We understand that part of tonight was about you all discussing this."

"Well, let us take a break," Molly chimed in with a beam, "It would be rude for us to keep you out of the bulk of the conversation with you having invited us here."

The rest of the evening went about as such. There was talk of the Romanian tales and the things they believed to be true about vampires and there was the looming, but unanswered question as to what happened with Gerald and Oliver after their departure. The family talked about their individual lives' most recent events. Ginny shared about Quidditch, the Grangers about their practice, and Arthur even asked to learn more about what was going on in the muggle world. Everyone seemed to have something to add.

Except for George.

Three years since his twin brother Fred's death and the wizard had not been the same. Sure, he carried on with their joke shop and put on the happy-go-lucky and fun loving attitude he was famed for, but those closest to him knew he was still hurting. Even so, Harry had picked up a strange vibe from his brother-in-law ever since he had learned about the case the aurors were working on. Harry could deal with his own frustration about there still being more to do with Voldemort. More dark secrets coming up about the evil wizard that had stolen so much from so many...but feeling that fear from others? He wasn't sure he could handle that...

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: I said if I changed anything from the canon Harry Potter storyline, I would note it. It's not really a change, but Hermione's parents were given no first names in the original books, writings, and films. Bringing them in as part of a more familiar setting, I wanted them to have first names so I decided to call them Howard and Nelly.**

 **In the books however, they were briefly given the names Wendell and Monika Wilkuns as their aliases during the time Hermione had erased their memories. Since these were not their real names and it was written that they had these names as fake place-holders, I did not simply use them.**


	31. Chapter 29: Arrest

"Calling it off? What for?" Draco barked at the auror.

"There's been...a sort of turn in the case," Harry stammered, wishing he would have opted for speaking over the phone instead.

"So you've already arrested him," the ex-deatheater raised an eyebrow.

"No, it's-"

"Then you _don't_ think he killed my father?" Draco interrupted, growing steadily more angry.

"Bloody hell, Malfoy, if you'd just let the man speak!" Ron yelled back.

The aurors had met the heir to Malfoy Manor back at the estate and the three began discussing their plans for Draco and Gerald's confrontation. It was easier for Harry and Ron to go to the old home after their last visit. Both wondered if Lucius' would make another appearance or if there was anything else to be learned from him. They didn't, however, make it a prime goal to find out at first, knowing Draco wouldn't like hearing about the change they made to his part in the investigation.

"If you've decided not to do this to get a confession for an arrest, and if he's not in custody or dead," the young Malfoy spat, "then I see no proper explanation. He _did_ kill my father."

Ron looked over to his partner who sighed, taking a moment to think and to calm before continuing, "We're not doubting he's had a hand in Lucius' murder. It's just that we need to re-evaluate some other details before we move forward with anything like this."

Draco stared back at Harry. It was obvious he was attempting not to get too upset so the auror gave his old rival props for at least starting to mature. Even so, imagining him like this with Gerald as he was at the restaurant the night prior, settled it in the investigator's mind that pitting the two against each other should not be done lightly if at all.

The redhead turned his neck about to look around the foyer of the building. His vision was resting on the staircase when he spoke again. This time in a relaxed, sympathetic manner, "Has he had anything else to say?"

Draco had been following Ron's movement and he answered the question though his attitude stayed perturbed, "No. He stopped speaking altogether and he's grown more agitated," the statement seemed to trigger a subtle change in Draco's demeanor, "He keeps disappearing randomly only to reappear screaming," his voice became noticeably softer then, "I think he's trying to leave, but can't..."

The room fell hollow.

Harry hadn't been sure he agreed with Molly Weasely when she had expressed that even a man as evil as Lucius deserved this kind of punishment, but...what if this was eternal? If he hadn't willingly chosen to remain in this world and Gerald's curse was irreversible, Harry was certain it was the son of Grindelwald who was truly the most evil here. Then again, if it somehow turned that Gerald was not to blame...

"Draco, I'm sorry for this hitch," Harry said, "But I may have a way to prove a hundred percent whether or not Gerald Davis is your father's murderer."

The junior Malfoy lifted his brow and crossed his arms, refusing to entertain the idea that Gerald might not be to blame, "If that's all you want then, Potter, you can leave."

The aurors hurried on their way out, ignoring Draco's walling and returning fury. Harry was too caught up in this new idea and Ron too curious of what it was his partner had pieced together. The door to the residence slammed shut behind them. The sound and the force startled the redhead, jarring him to talk.

"What's in your head, mate?"

"It's something Hermione said," Harry answered, never breaking from the trek, "About how phantoms can't be poisoned."

"Yeah?"

"We don't know at what point a dying person chooses to remain as a ghost," Harry kept on, "But we know they haven't an idea of what happens if they didn't choose it. So it begs to reason this choice is made while still alive...maybe just before they die."

"OK?" Ron was still confused.

"What if a vampire did kill Lucius? And they bit him to manipulate him into staying behind after he died? That would mean Gerald wasn't the one to force him." Harry asked.

"Alright, so we can see if Gerald is the killer by looking for a substance in Lucius' body that matches one of the vampire goons that broke into Durmstrang," Ron surmised.

"Right," Harry agreed. "Gerald was a dark wizard in the past, but what if we've been wrong about him being one now?"

"It was Malfoy's death that more or less made the idea concrete that he is," Ron mused, "Other than that, all that we know is he's a crazy, moody jerk. Though didn't Oliver mention that Gerald had almost killed muggles a few years ago?"

"He did, but honestly that may have been as simple as him losing his temper in a bar," Harry said.

"It still leaves how Lucius' ghost is acting...the Greek and not talking about Gerald or how he died," Ron thought, "Hermione's still right about poison not being able to bother ghosts...they're just a semblance of what they were. There's no actual body or blood."

"Yes, that part still has to be Gerald," replied the lead auror, "If this was the vampires' first attempt at getting to him and they wanted Lucius to say something to put more heat on Gerald, then it was Gerald who tampered with the spirit in order to hide himself. but then..."

Harry stopped walking. The two had already made it well away from the mansion and past every shrub adorning the walk. He turned to his friend, catching his breath.

"But then why go through the trouble of getting Grindelwald's file?" Ron finished the sentence, "Lucius left nothing that hinted to Gerald being inhuman so maybe anything he could share wasn't important to the vampires. That means there's something in those files that _is_ important both to them and to us."

Harry shook his head, "I think messing with Brad was either stupid...or brilliant. Minister Shackelbolt is right: Gerald's eventually going to go off...just like a bomb. Whether from the stress of his inaction or from continuously giving in to those who want something from him."

"What the hell could they want?" Ron breathed.

"If Gerald can manipulate Lucius' spirit...maybe that's it," the dark haired wizard adjusted his glasses.

"Vampires don't have sp-" his partner started.

"Exactly," Harry interrupted.

"Why wouldn't he just do whatever and get them off his back?" Ron complained.

"Gerald's not human. That means, like the vampires, his magic is different from ours...maybe he's refusing for the same reason that seems to drive everything else he does? His well-being. He wants to protect himself." Harry mused. "After the time he spent working with Voldemort, he may have realized that use of his power takes a toll on him? It hurts him? That's why he stopped obeying. He rather die than be in pain."

"Hmm, that would explain why he stopped really using his magic," said the redhead. "But Oliver and Brad have fought to keep him alive...Dad, Charlie, even you said that he was fearful for Brad. So is he completely selfish or does he care enough about his friends to do what is needed to keep them safe?"

"We can't know yet which is more important to him, but I'm not going to continue leaving it to chance...playing by ear..." the lead auror picked up, "We need to confront both Gerald and Oliver with this. We don't know the consequences of him doing what the vampires wish of him."

"So...do you think if we present with this, either one or the other of them will finally be honest?" Ron inquired.

"No," Harry admitted. "I think it's time to make an arrest and end this mystery."


	32. Chapter 30: Showtime

"This 'angel of the abyss' then could have been referencing about the vampires instead of Gerald," Hermione thought aloud as the four trudged on their way up the sidewalk to the noisy crowds just beyond the next turn. "I already said that Lucius' point was to tell us we were dealing with something unknown to us. Vampires are all but so."

"It may be," Arthur spoke, "You were able to warn Stephen and Mary, weren't you, boys?"

"Yes, more or less," Harry nodded. "When we couldn't find Gerald and Oliver, Oliver's brother told us that they had been searching for Brad. We told them to take precautions toward their safety without telling them anything of what was going on."

"Alright, hold on a minute," Ron piped, "If Brad's still missing, then are they even going to be here today?"

"I checked. There wasn't any mention of the band canceling their performance," his wife informed, "Surely there is a stand-in for Brad. Perhaps they'll play the track without his part being performed live."

"Well, muggle music isn't too large a part of what I study," Mr. Weasely stepped in, "But from what I gather, faking a performance like that is a career killer. More likely they will have a replacement that can actually play the drum part."

Harry and Ron had initially looked to arrest Gerald over the weekend, but when they didn't find them, decided to do so after the band performed in London that next week. It was a one time deal- no more dates set for them to work so there were no more expectations of them from fans or the muggle world. With one member already missing, forcing a no-show because a second had disappeared, had the potential to create needless drama which would end up causing the most discomfort on Oliver's part, but it wasn't something the aurors wanted to handle either. Not when they could simply wait until afterward and let others assume the band had not moved forward.

The investigators had brought Hermione along with them as a representative of the Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures as per Gerald's inhumanity and Arthur was present as an expert in muggle affairs not only because of the arrest taking place about a large muggle event, but also due to Gerald's chosen muggle lifestyle. More than anything, though, Harry and Ron wanted more people they could trust to help if and when Gerald refused to be captured. Ideally, these others would be aurors as well to best follow Ministry standards, however since the fall of Voldemort, Harry and Ron were the only surviving and active aurors.

As the troupe turned the corner, the gated area where the Maysfield Music Festival was taking place came into view. They could hear rock music playing as well as the screams and shouts of excited attendees. Hermione had copied down the list of the performing artists and the order in which they were to go on.

Each featured musician was playing two songs and _The Devil's Children_ were fourth in line to take the stage. Harry and his company had arrived during band number two and as they approached the entrance, could tell their second song had ended by the cheering of the crowd and the host's voice bidding them farewell while introducing the next performers.

"Tickets," the tall, built man at the gates said plainly.

Arthur was the one who handed the four passes over, the guard carefully eyeing and rapidly stamping them before handing them back and putting attention on the next in line. The wizards stepped inside the area and began walking the perimeter. It was a simple setup: a large open floor on this side of the stage with booths for merchandise, snacks, and other propaganda-pushers along the edges. The sides and back of the stage were blocked off and guarded by men with similar builds to the one who had stamped their tickets.

"We'll stay hidden until they come on," Harry instructed as the group stopped at the wall of a booth selling tshirts and CDs. "When the performance is ending, we'll make our way backstage. You have the polyjuice potion?"

"Yes," Hermione pulled a vial from her bag. "I'll take it during the second song."

"Now we wait," the lead auror nodded then peered past the wall behind him to the people and stage beyond.

The next nine or ten minutes, they remained in silence, all keeping a study of their surroundings with careful attention to those on and around the stage. The band playing was from Scotland and Harry had actually heard their music before. He recognized them from one of the songs that they played- apparently their most popular. Otherwise, though, he probably would not have realized who they were. As the familiar tune ended, the stage was taken over by the host.

"Excellent, excellent, excellent," the smiling man complimented. "One more cheer?"

The people's roar surged with power.

"Alright now our next guests have come all the way from America. They're hoping to keep their music going here so I want a big fucking welcome for _The Devil's Children_!"

The crowd screamed again as Gerald, Oliver, and another man that could have easily been Brad walked onto the stage. Oliver took his place with a guitar, the drummer went to the bulky instrument in the back, and Gerald strolled up to the host, who handed over the microphone. He said something to the wizard who smirked and responded with a just a couple of words. As the host left, the singer put the microphone to his lips.

"Thank you, Dirk," he said, watching after the man who left before turning to the crowd in front of him, "You know, I've put off coming back overseas for a long time because of shit that's happened years ago," his voice was low at first, but lifted on the next part, "But seeing all you happy motherfuckers out there," he paused, letting the people roar again, "has got me wondering why?"

Gerald laughed, turning to Oliver who leaned forward and spoke into the microphone beside him, "Because you're a selfish ass."

The crowd laughed and cheered and Harry's stomach sank at the act the two were giving. It seemed nothing had been made public about Brad and his friends were pretending for the audience that all was well. That terrible things have occurred, but the present was worth living for...a complete lie seething from Gerald's being like a poisonous fume.

The musicians backed off from their mics as the drummer started a slow beat. Oliver joined in with a casual melody before Gerald opened his mouth again to sing.

 _You call me a faggot like its supposed to hurt._  
 _You think you're better than me, but you're less than dirt._  
 _I_ _won't buy into the bullshit_  
 _J_ _ust want to make these thoughts quit._  
 _But I'll never be on your level because I don't know how to kneel._

The beat picked up and the song quickened. There was a brief pause in the vocals where Gerald fell back from his spot in a sort of swerve, one hand gripping the mic tighter in front of his chest as his other arm flew to his side then made a fist that threw itself downward as he began singing...or rather screaming again.

 _Rot away, I don't care._  
 _Rot and become beautiful again._  
 _Throw away your life_  
 _For the fantasy you are in your mind._  
 _Rot and become beautiful again._

The screaming stopped and the music fell into a rhythm somewhere between the initial soft and the harshness of the chorus.

 _Looking around I see the suffering._  
 _Don't you realize you are nothing?_  
 _Hit me, rape me, make me feel like a slave._  
 _Give it all to me, but I'll never behave._  
 _I can take it, each bit of abuse._  
 _You are pathetic; I will not lose._

Gerald repeated the chorus in the same screech as the first time through and then took backward steps to the side as Oliver came forward more to play a powerful solo on his guitar.

Harry watched Gerald as he somehow managed to chug half a bottle of water and simultaneously bang his head pretty heavily to the music still playing around him. When Oliver transitioned into soft rock once more, Gerald was at the mic, singing in a soft, scratchy voice as the drummer gradually stopped beating.

 _Just rot_  
 _The only way you'll find worth_.  
 _Just rot_  
 _Just rot_  
 _Away_

The song ended with another belt of yells and whistles and cheers. The two real band members half huddled in front of the drumset and it looked like they were talking to the musician on lend. After a small reprieve, they were all back in position, beginning to play their second song: a more upbeat and loud tune.

Harry turned to Hermione, who gave him a nod, opening the potion she still held. Arthur and Ron joined the lead auror in crowding around the witch and keeping an eye on all passerbys. One or two muggles glanced their way, but Hermione stayed in the clear.

Harry hadn't been paying much heed to the new song as he and the others were readying to move, but the lyrics caught his ear when it came to the first chorus. It sounded like a love song.

 _I'll be your angel;_  
 _I'll be your demon._  
 _All you need._  
 _Just say my name_  
 _I'll be the reason_  
 _You become insane._

"Alright, I'm ready," a woman's voice sounded behind the three wizards.

Where Hermione had been, now stood the undercover witch from the muggle police headquarters who had alerted the ministry to Lucius' death. Minister Shackelbolt had okayed the impersonation of the woman as the case was still being played as close to the belt as possible. As a muggle officer, Amber Kate could get the group access to backstage without much fuss.

"Lead the way then," Harry breathed, words barely audible over the sound of the concert.

Amber took the front of the group and traversed past rowdy fans and other attendees up to the side of the stage. The wizards did their best to stay hard to see, but as they reached their destination, the song was ending so the band was no longer preoccupied.

Hermione flashed Amber's badge to the guard with a shallow excuse for her presence. The man looked her over, taking note of the name on the shield as he stepped sideways to let the four inside.

Quickly hopping through the line, Harry pushed the way through the smaller quarters to wait just on the other side of the curtains for the band's arrival. However, as the host returned, introduced the next performers, and new music began to play, Harry knew something was wrong.

Hermione registered the look on the auror's face and tapped on the arm of a passing stagehand, "Excuse me. My name is special officer Kate. We're looking for Gerald Davis?"

"Um," the thin man nervously resituated the wires hanging over his shoulders. "I don't-" he glanced behind the witch and then off to either side. "Talk to him," he tilted his head to the side in a gesture before continuing on his way.

The group looked further beyond and saw the drummer who had taken the stage as part of _The Devil's Children._ This closer inspection proved that he wasn't Brad though he was dressed, up to his hair, as the real thing. The wizards hurried over to him as he turned a corner behind yet another curtain.

"Hey!" Harry yelled at the man, causing him to stop and give a quizzical look.

"Yeah?" the man replied almost seeming aggravated.

"We're looking for Gerald Davis," Harry informed.

The man scrunched his eyes and scratched his head, "Yeah, he and Oliver left right after the last song. Uh..." he twisted his torso slightly, gazing into a working area where several vehicles and other equipment was parked. "You go off there, but they might already be gone."

"Thank you," Hermione smiled, taking the lead again and running the group to the area pointed out to them.

"Hey yeah, good luck. Guy's in a right foul mood!" the drummer called off after them.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Ok, so I love poetry, but I suck at writing it. And lyrics are basically just poetry set to music. So yeah, I wrote the songs in this chapter. Don't judge their frailty too hard! I'm not a poet! Lols**


	33. Chapter 31: Here to Help

"No doubt they're gone," Ron spoke as the company ran, "Plenty of time to have apparated."

"We still have to try," his father stated.

As the four wizards reached a quieter part of the place, seemingly inhabited by nothing but trucks and machinery, familiar voices were heard shouting.

"I don't care about your damn father or your taste for revenge," Gerald spat. "Get out of our way."

Taking one final skip, Harry laid eyes on Gerald and Oliver just as Draco, wand raised, called on an incendio charm, throwing the explosion at the person he presumed to be Lucius' murderer. Gerald, glaring angrily at his opponent, threw a hand out into 'Aguamenti,' and successfully drowned the flames.

The two wizards stood a maximum of six feet apart with Oliver several more behind his friend, taking the opportunity to grab his own wand. Malfoy was already beginning to throw another attack when the incoming team distracted him from his goal.

"Stop, both of you!" Harry ordered from the other side of his own wand.

Arthur, Ron, and Hermione were all armed as well.

Draco scoffed, not at first willing to cease the attack, "What? I'm not allowed to defend myself?" he growled at the auror.

Harry stepped forward, eyes watching as Oliver seemed to loosen hold on his own weapon. Gerald didn't move...not even to look the newcomers' way.

"Gerald Davis," Harry spoke to rouse the wizard and answer Draco's 'concern' in the same breath, "You're under arrest. Lower your hands and come with us."

"What is your reason for this?" Oliver tucked in, coming to the defense of his bandmate.

"Evidence of his practice in the dark arts including a testimony from one Lucius Malfoy gives reason for his arrest," Harry answered determinedly.

The statement eased Draco, who smirked, pulling his hand slowly away from its point at Gerald. The elder white haired creature remained unmoved.

"Don't make this difficult, Gerald," Harry warned, "You are outnumbered."

"Ger, just-" Oliver walked slowly up behind his friend, attempting to calm the wizard who appeared to be working himself into a panic.

But it did nothing.

In a quick swoop that surprised all of the other wizards including Oliver himself, Gerald grabbed his friend forcefully, and threw his body...almost hitting Draco in the process.

The thrown man yelped. Draco aimed his wand again, calling out 'stupefy!' as an enraged Gerald bolted forward, deflecting the spell with a flick of his hand.

Malfoy frantically lit his wand to take down Gerald, but at that time the dark wizard was already upon him, taking tight hold of the younger man's wrists. Draco yelled and dropped his wand as his attacker began forcing him to bend his arms backward.

Twisting both himself and Draco around in a dance that worked well in keeping him away from clear shots from the aurors and their allies, Gerald kept bending the man's arms until Malfoy's angry yells turned into screams of agony.

The sound of bones cracking pierced the air, sending chills through the lead auror's being. Desperately moving and scurrying about, Harry and the others found it difficult to get a good view of their target. Gerald had stopped hurting Draco, but kept using his body to aid in protecting himself.

A few stray spells leapt from Ron and Hermione, though mostly, their wands just shone in multiple colors without anything further coming of them. It wasn't until Oliver had reached his feet were they able to see the situation better.

The man jumped onto his friend's back, grabbing his shoulders, and pulling him away from his enemy. When Gerald released Draco, letting the wizard crash into the ground, they saw that both of his arms had been broken in two- breaks near the middle of both forearms.

The skin was torn and bleeding and the cracked bones could be seen poking through the mess of tissue. The wounded man kept his arms curled into his chest as he rolled over on the grass. As he sobbed in pain, eyes were back on Gerald who had pushed back against his friend, throwing him down once more.

And the sight gave them all pause...caused hesitation in stopping the necromancer. Because before them, the mostly human person had changed...shifted.

Grindelwald's experiment kept the body of a man, but its arms had lengthened, thinned, and ended in incredibly long claws that dripped with Draco's blood. His short white hair had thickened...and peering though the strands...were blood red eyes where icy spheres had been.

Gerald ceased his human movements, head twitching oddly to the side like a predator as his sites set on his enemies...the ministry employees.

The creature took one step forward. It was slow and hesitant. It was as if he didn't want to move, but his own body was fighting him...pushing him to go.

"Stamatiste, apla stamatiste," Oliver was standing again and had rushed to the front of this monster version of his friend, hands up in a calming motion as he spoke reassuringly to him. His words were of the same tongue as Lucius' ghost. "Me xereis. Empistepsou me. einai entaxei..."

Gerald blinked his eyes rapidly, stilling himself though his chest heaved more and more. His breathing turned into panting and the blades where his fingers had been, twitched. He didn't move...but neither did he change.

"Stupefy!" Harry ordered his wand to come alive with green magic and fly to the creature.

Hermione, being an expert on inhuman creatures, was unsure what it would take to make Gerald fall, so she gave the same incantation. Both the auror and the witch hit this new monster with their spells. Neither Gerald nor Oliver reacted quickly enough to counter.

Gerald's mouth came open in a yell, revealing several pointed teeth just as the spells struck, furling him unconscious to the ground, not far from the fallen Malfoy.

Oliver jumped to his friend's side, kneeling next to him and putting his eyes on Harry, who was slowly approaching them with his troupe. All kept wands lifted.

"Harry, he didn't mean-" Oliver stammered nervously, then begged, "Please don't."

"I'm sorry," the auror placated, still somewhat shaken, "We don't have another option anymore."

Hermione fell to Draco's side, whispering incantations to diminish the pain and help his wounds to heal. Malfoy was hushed, completely taken aback by the events.

"Oliver, please step away from him," Harry continued softly as the man kept holding onto his sleeping friend.

He shook his head back and forth and he stayed where he was, gripping Gerald's now human arms, the large tattooed melding of the dark mark and the Deathly Hallows laying in plain view.

"I'm sorry," Oliver breathed, gazing down at the man...beast in his arms, "But I can't," he said as he set sight back on Harry.

The lead auror's eyes widened as he realized too late that the musician had tightened his hold and was transporting himself and Gerald away from the scene.

The apparating was too sudden and too fast for further action. Instantly, the remaining band members were gone and with no clue as to where.

"That boy is getting himself into a lot of trouble," Arthur mused. "I hope he knows who he's chosen to fight for..."

Harry rolled his eyes in aggravation, turning to Hermione still nursing Draco's wounds, "I do too...and I hope he's right..."

"Greek, yah?" Ron piped, "Oliver didn't seem surprised about all this, now did he?"

"No, he didn't," Hermione began helping Draco up. "I guess Gerald was finally honest with him."

"That's it Potter! Enough of this secrecy," Draco was talking again, "I hope you know I'm making everything public."

"Draco, if it weren't for you, we'd have Gerald in custody right now," Harry shot back.

"And you wouldn't have two broken arms," Ron added.

Malfoy furiously tried to bottle his rage, but his face, head, and arms twitched angrily showing it nonetheless. He stared back between Harry and Ron and it was obvious his brain was fuming from attempts to put together a proper response.

"Just do us this favor and be patient for once," Harry asked. "You'll be the first to know when more is known...when we have him...and when it's time for others to know. I give you my word. Besides...your father might need Gerald to fix whatever is holding him back."

Draco sighed angrily, "Very well," he muttered, breaking away from the group. "I have someone who will tend to my injuries. I expect to hear from you soon."

And with that, he walked away. It seemed like the entire ordeal had been perfectly timed. Just as he disappeared, a couple of unaware muggles came into view, giving the wizards odd looks, but never ceasing from their path. In after thought, it probably would have been best to refrain from saying the part about his father.

"How do we go about finding them now?" Ron asked. "They have funds to hide themselves somewhere, but do you think they'll just vanish?"

"Somehow it seems unlikely," his father said. "Besides his brother, are there any other ties you know of?"

"No," Harry sighed. "But at this point they're running from us, MACUSA, _and_ a hidden order of vampires. They're running out of options."

"Perhaps he'll end up giving into their demands so he and Oliver will have somewhere...and even get Brad back if he's still alive," Hermione thought.

Harry exhaled sharply, "It's likely no use, but we should start with checking in at their home, with Stephen, and their manager. Hermione," the auror turned to the witch, "Get in contact with the minister. Tell him what is happening and see if there has been any advancement concerning the poison in the Durmstrang robbers."

"Right," the witch nodded, glancing around before disaparating away herself.

"Mr. Weaseley," Harry kept on with instructions, "Can you accompany us to Dunsfold?"

"Of course," Arthur responded.

The three wizards started walking away from the lot upon seeing that more people had wandered about. It took them only a handful of minutes of strolling to find another safe spot which they used to disapparate from London and into Dunsfold, not far from the home of Stephen and Mary Smith.

The trio kept their heads about them, careful to stay aware of their surroundings as they walked up to the door, knocking, and impatiently waiting for an answer. A few moments passed without response, so the lead auror rapped again.

This time, the door was opened by Mary, whose smile fell upon seeing who the company was, their disheveled appearances did not help. "What's wrong? Is Ollie OK?" her expression immediately filled with worry.

"Is Stephen around?" Harry questioned.

"He-he's just inside," she stammered, "Please come in."

The woman stepped out of the way and let the three men from the ministry inside. The home was cozy and clean and Mary led them to a small den where Stephen sat on a couch, reading a piece of parchment.

Upon the company's entrance, he lifted grave eyes to them. He didn't stand, but motioned for them to take seats.

"This is a quick visit, sir," Harry informed, "We will need to go immediately."

"I understand," the man's voice was flat, his mind was elsewhere. "What happened?"

The lead auror paused only a moment before taking the wizard's gaze and answering, "We tried to arrest Gerald in London today. He was rendered unconscious, but Oliver...disappeared with him. We're looking for them both now."

"Oh my goodness," Mary walked to take a stand behind the couch and her husband. She put a hand over her mouth with the exclamation.

Stephen sighed, shaking his head. "Someone sent me this note," he lifted the paper in his hand for the auror to take. It arrived earlier today...after the festival had started."

Harry took the letter, reading it silently as his brother and father in law looked over and did the same.

 _When there's nowhere left to go, I'm always here to help. Return to the scene of your crime._  
 _~ Little Brother_


	34. Chapter 32: Protect What's Mine

"How did you get this?" Harry demanded, confused.

"It was stuck to my door," Stephen answered, "I hadn't even gotten out of bed when I heard knocking, but when I got there, nobody was around. All that was different was the letter."

 _Little Brother..._ Oliver was Stephen's little brother, but he wasn't the one that sent the letter... It was delivered before he fled with Gerald. There was absolutely no reasoning to give his brother such a cryptic message when he didn't know that he, himself, was going to be on the run.

Harry recalled the conversation he and Ron had spied on. Brad had called the three bandmates brothers and said he was there for them...to help...which was exactly what was written in this note.

Another ploy on the vampire's part? Was the letter meant to mess with Gerald's head: remind him what they had of his and that they could give him an out, if he would just take it? If it hadn't been for interference from his pursuers, Gerald might have stayed away from any major pursuit from the aurors as well. Might have...

Giving the note to Stephen was a threat. They were warning not only Gerald, but Oliver as well, that they would take things further. And their tactics had already started to work.

 _You brought them into this, Mr. Potter. That's on you._

Gerald had brought his only two friends into these sordid affairs...and he was feeling guilty. He refused to bear the brunt of anyone other than them getting hurt. Arthur was right- he hadn't been threatening Harry or the family that night at the restaurant- he was placing the blame of anything happening to them on someone else...Harry.

But just how much was it going to take until he broke? He was clearly reaching that point as evidenced by his morph at the festival... He was a danger even if he didn't mean to be. The scenario appeared to Harry similar to that of a werewolf transformation. This demon, creature, whichever, that he was hiding- he didn't control.

"Do you have any idea what it means?" the lead auror asked without detailing his own thoughts.

Stephen shook his head, "No. Only that it's not meant for me."

Harry tilted his head, "Why do you say that?"

The man on the couch sighed, "Ollie invited us to the concert. We," he gave his wife an awkward look, "Decided not to go, but we told him to come over afterward."

"Was Gerald meant to be here too?" Ron inquired.

"Certainly not!" Mary stated indignately, bringing all eyes to her.

"No, he wasn't," her husband rephrased calmly after a small pause, "Just Oliver."

The note was definitely meant for Oliver then...but he would have spoken to Gerald about it. So whose crime were they referencing? The personal feeling of the letter coupled with being signed by Brad made it seem that this 'crime' was probably not an illegal act at all, but rather something between the band members that had caused a great strain on their relationship. Otherwise, it wouldn't make sense as Brad had made it known he wasn't concerned for any immoral deed his friend and brother had done.

"Mr. Smith," Harry thought, "Do you know of any fights or disagreements that your brother, Brad, and Gerald might have had?"

Stephen paused, glancing down at his feet before gazing back on his company with a shrug, "Those three? Thick as thieves. Poor Ollie, he- Gerald helped him out of a really dark place...as did Brad. After our parents were killed... He didn't handle it well... I'm sure there have been fights especially considering the type of man Gerald is, but he wouldn't have shared that with me. However, I- Hm..." Stephen pursed his lips, then shook his head once as they parted in hesitation.

"What is it? Stephen?" Mr. Weasely pushed.

The man took a deep breath. His wife's brow was furrowed, obviously confused by his trouble.

"Gerald...Gerald sought me out...last week," Stephen explained nervously.

"What?!" Mary scurried from her spot behind the couch to the front of it, shockingly eyeing her husband. "You didn't tell me that!"

"I knew how you'd react," the wizard confessed, reaching out to take her hand.

She jerked away from him with the same furious expression she had had the first day the aurors had come to their home. Shaking her head at him, she took her leave quickly. Stephen didn't move after her though. He only inhaled and continued his story.

"It was the same day that Brad went missing. It was late. Mary was already asleep... I opened the door and when I saw him alone, my first thought was that something was wrong with Oliver. He must have seen it on my face because the first thing he said was, 'your brother is fine.'

"He told me that Brad was gone...he said that Mary and I were in danger as well. I was dumbfounded at seeing him. I didn't know how to react. Part of me thought he meant to harm us himself. He gave me something, though, and I managed to ask what it was... He didn't give a straight answer. Only said that if we were in trouble, to activate it with a certain incantation. He said it me and then left."

"And did Oliver know about this?" Harry questioned.

"I told him the next day, yes," Mr. Smith went on. "It did cause a fight between them. Ollie didn't say much to me other than to ask me to get rid of the item permanently."

Harry, Ron, and Arthur exchanged looks.

"Did you?" the elder Weasely asked.

Stephen got up from his seat and walked around to a long table nestled inside the hallway behind the den. Opening a drawer, he retrieved an object wrapped in sheets and came back to his guests, his hands shaking as he offered it to Harry.

The investigator took it, feeling through the cloth multiple small, light, but long items. Carefully untying the folds, he opened it to reveal Gerald's gift.

Five human finger bones, stripped clean of any flesh and dried of any blood.

"Is that?" Ron started.

Arthur stiffened at the sight, face becoming instantly somber, "What was the spell?"

"Protect mine to earn yourself," Stephen choked out in a weak voice, apparently afraid to speak the words.

The room became eerily quiet as the wizards all contemplated the bones and what the spell was meant to unleash. But more than that, they wondered whose bones they were holding...and how fresh they were. Was obtaining them...giving this dark magic to Stephen...was that the crime?

"I never planned on using it," Stephen admitted. "And their presence has not stopped haunting me...but I've kept it because if anything happened to my brother...I thought I could use it to help put Gerald away. I know this magic is no good..."

Harry quickly concealed the bones once more, stuffing them into the inside of his robe, "It will help, thank you," he told the worried wizard and then turned to his teammates, "Let's go."

The other two followed directly after the lead auror as he left the house. Journeying past the Smith residence, Harry glanced at his watch. If Hermione had been able to talk to anyone, she should have by now and wherever Gerald was, he would be awake.

Once more finding a safe spot, the three wizards spun into the air, disapparating and reappearing at Ron's home. Inside, they found Hermione and Ginny waiting for them. While Ginny ran to hug her husband, the other witch spoke.

"Lucius is clean," she said nervously.

"What?" Harry responded as Ginny eased away from the embrace.

"The poison in the people at Durmstrang wasn't in his body at all," Granger clarified. "Gerald was the murderer."

Everyone paused, each with their separate line of thinking, but all once more deliberating Gerald's motives, aggression, and vile nature.

"Was he all there?" Ron questioned his wife, suddenly, "I mean-"

Harry retrieved the bones for clarification of the redhead and gave them to Hermione, who quickly looked them over, "These aren't his," she shook her head, "Each one is from a different person... Where-"

"Gerald gave them to Stephen with a spell meant to protect him and Mary," Harry gave a rapid explanation of it and then the note.

"Wherever these bones are from, that's where Oliver and Gerald are," Hermione breathed. "With both of them afraid for more trouble and with him losing control, Gerald must have given up."

"But," Ron protested, "They never got the message. They don't know-"

"It doesn't matter," his father chimed in. "He's using his necromancy. Whether he's given up or they plan to try and fight back, he's going to be where he can have the best advantage. That would be around death...there's more to those bodies than just fingers."

"Tom Riddle's graveyard," Ginny piped. "He's still attached to Voldemort. It's where he was resurrected and buried...it's where Gerald was tortured and nearly died himself."

"It's as good a guess as any," Harry agreed. "It's isolated and familiar to him."

"Something gets me though," Ron surmised, his face in contemplation, "Why hasn't he just fought back before now instead of letting himself be bullied? He didn't simply take threats from anyone else. Killed Lucius for acting like that towards him."

"We don't know how many of these vampires there are, Ronald," his wife argued, "or how strong they are or how far their reach is. Doing so might not have seemed a viable option to him."

"This far into matters," Arthur shared, "We need to stop Gerald and put these creatures back to rest."

The lead auror agreed, "We need to move. Now."


	35. Chapter 33: Not Enough

The family cemetery where the Riddles laid was in a small area in the Southern part of England known as Hangelton. Though Harry had been to the graveyard during his fourth year at Hogwarts, none of the others had traveled there.

So it was up to Harry to apparate them all as quickly as possible should they be correct in their theory and were spotted immediately. Fortunately, the distance was short, but even so transporting with more than two side-alongs wasn't possible. The auror decided it best to take the Weasely men first and scout the area before returning for Hermione and Ginny.

"Ready?" Harry asked, stepping into position.

Mr. Weasely nodded and Ron breathed a 'yeah' as they both stepped forward and took hold of the outstretched arms. Harry inhaled sharply before the three disappeared.

Little longer than instantaneously, the wizards found themselves standing just in front of the huge monument on Voldemort's father's grave. Each quickly drew their wands, twirling around in case of enemies. However, they seemed to be alone.

"It's right creepy here, it is," Ron blurted after the realization nobody was about.

Harry and Arthur ignored the younger redhead and stepped cautiously about the tombstones, keeping their wands raised. It didn't seem that anything had been bothered. Every plot was perfectly at rest with no signs of having been dug into or otherwise upturned.

Though it was only just afternoon, the sky appeared glum and dark as if it were about to storm, but the unnatural mist that Harry had seen upon his first visit was not about. Therefore, it was easy to conclude that there were no others among the graves themselves.

As they lowered their weapons, Harry gazed across the length of the cemetery to the old house that had once belonged to Tom Riddle's family, "I'm going to get the girls," he informed, "then we need to check that place out."

Arthur followed the auror's gaze and studied the home, "Go on, then. We'll keep a sharp eye."

The dark haired wizard gave one final visual sweep, then spun and disapparated. Once back in the witches' presence, the two hurried to his sides and grabbed his wrists without need for explanation.

The brief moments were still enough to make the auror anxious regarding the men he had momentarily left. Upon return, however, he discovered that they had been both unharmed and unconfronted.

Through a shiver, Hermione walked away from Harry and his wife, carefully observing the yard for herself, "Doesn't look like the bones came from here," she mused and then with a turn back to her companions, "Off to the house, the- Harry? Are you alright?"

The lead auror was staring at the stone Grim Reaper that had once held him, forcing him to take part in the ritual that revived the dark Lord Voldemort. The memory of that night often invaded his thoughts and dreams. If it hadn't been for him...Harry's own blood, the evil wizard would not have resurfaced and continued his reign. In his heart, he knew that it wasn't that simple- that Voldemort had many enemies and would have returned regardless, but the auror still kept guilt in his mind.

"Yeah," he finally spoke, taking his gaze from the statue and putting it on the others.

Harry began strolling toward the two-story building where he first saw through Voldemort's eyes and witnessed the murder of the old muggle man tasked with keeping the property. It was that vision that gave him enough insight to properly lead the group through the shadows and safely inside the home, but before entering, the wizards paused to make sure they were prepared.

"Should we use the revelio charm to see if they're inside?" Ron whispered.

"Homenum revelio only reveals humans. It might not detect Gerald," Ginny told her brother.

"But it would show Oliver," he protested. "And they're together."

"It would also alert them to our presence if they are here," Hermione snapped. "We don't know if they're alone. That charm wouldn't work on vampires either."

"Right," Arthur agreed, keeping hushed as well, "Our best bet is to sneak inside and look. There might not be anyone here at all and we shouldn't base our decision to move forward on Oliver being around. If they'd parted ways, leaving Gerald alone with or without vampires...we'd see an empty house where creatures may actually be."

"Hold on," Hermione said as the lead auror took hold of the door handle.

The witch lifted her wand and pointed it at the hinges of the entrance, commanding, 'scourgify.' The invisible energy struck the metal, cleaning all rust and dirt from it. She repeated this spell on each hinge and then the handle itself.

"No squeaking," she said casually.

The troupe readied once more and Harry slowly pushed the entrance open.

Inside the home, everything lay dark and still. No caretakers had taken charge of the place since Voldemort had killed the last or at least so the filth and disarray of the place made it appear.

The five made careful, deliberate movements around the mess as they pointed their wands in the various crevices, crooks, and rooms of the first floor. They slowly made their way around the base of the structure, about each toppled piece of furniture and pile of random, broken objects before meeting at the bottom of the stairs.

A slight noise sounded when they regrouped. Harry immediately gave a signal for everyone to stop moving and listen. A few moments passed with no more disruptions so the leader gave the go ahead to keep on, but instantly retracted it when there was another, longer string of sounds.

Whether their targets or not, there were people upstairs talking with each other. Harry and the others stayed in their place, trying to listen in. However the voices were too muffled. So instead, in synchronized steps to lessen chance of noise, they crept up the stairs. Near the top, the conversation became more audible.

"Why wouldn't you just do this? You know you've put us all in danger and Brad might even be dead because of you?" the first voice spoke. Oliver.

"He's not dead," the other scoffed, "And because the last time I trusted someone with this, he abused it!" Gerald raised his voice. "You can't tell me you trust these blood-suckers to be ethical."

"Well you don't really have a choice anymore, do you?" Oliver showed equal frustration as that in Gerald's angry tone. "And neither do I!"

"Ollie, you made your own damn choice when you-"

"When I saved you?" the wizard cut the demon off. "Yeah, I get it. I chose wrong," he spat.

A quiet fell between the two in the room at the end of the hall. In response, the approaching group stilled their movements and gripped their wands more tightly.

They had made it several paces past the staircase, peering into each empty room as they went. There didn't seem to be anyone except the fighting friends.

"You're right," Gerald's voice grew soft. "You did."

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Arthur started walking again. They'd almost reached their goal. The conversation seemed to have ended as it remained quiet even up until the wizards stood outside the room.

"Ger- I-" Oliver tried to talk again, but his hunters flung the door open wide, stepping in with wands high.

"Keep your hands down, Gerald," Harry ordered. "Oliver, hands up."

"Leave him out of this," Gerald gave a low growl, his eyes narrowing at the auror though he kept his arms down to his sides.

Harry ignored him, speaking firmly again to the other man, "Oliver?"

Oliver glanced over at Gerald before slowly lifting his hands, opening them to prove they were empty. Gerald's breathing picked up when his brother obeyed the order and when Mr. Weasely moved forward to arrest the wizard, Gerald moved as well.

Arthur quickly turned his wand on the demon, both men stopping in their tracks, giving each other intense stares. Gerald's chest kept heaving and his eyes starting to blink more often.

"Gerald, calm down," Oliver soothed, but his uneasiness showed.

"Leave him alone," Gerald repeated, his voice cold.

Everyone stayed in their stances, waiting for someone else to move and initiate the battle they all knew was coming. But then, Gerald did something unexpected.

He knelt.

Keeping arms glued to his sides, he slowly fell to his knees and set his vision blankly before him. The aurors looked from the dark wizard to Oliver and back, trying to assess what he was doing. The motion seemed to show defeat. Harry even pondered him pleading for Oliver's freedom as he gave himself in.

But it wasn't so.

"Ger...Ger, listen to me," the man standing beside Arthur jumped suddenly, but ceased motion when the wand aimed at him twitched in warning.

The begging wizard's words were enough for Harry to justify an attack on the kneeling creature. Jerking his hand, he threw the stupefy charm at Gerald, but the being's reflex caught and dispersed the spell's energy in time.

One hand raised and pointed, as if holding an invisible wand, yet he remained on his knees, shaking his vision to actually see. As he laid eyes on Harry, the auror saw that they were crimson again.

"You know, Mr. Potter," his voice was thick, "I had the chance to kill you...twice. I won't pass up the opportunity a third time."

The aurors and the witches drew their attention from Oliver and cast spells at the once more menacing demon while Arthur bolted forward in an attempt to restrain Oliver.

Ron threw fire at the creature with an incendio charm while his wife tried to stupefy him again and Ginny made use of the bombarda charm, but it was Harry's shouting 'expulsio' that actually hit Gerald as he focused on deflecting the other attacks.

Hitting his back hard enough to break it against the wall behind him, the demon fell to the ground in the cloud of dust released from the force to the aging building.

Oliver and Arthur had entered a hand to hand battle after having simultaneously grabbed the wrists of the other. Mr. Weasely still held onto his weapon as the two struggled. Gerald's crash, however, was startling enough to give Oliver an opening to pull close to the older redheaded wizard, knee him in the stomach, and break away.

He used this out to run to Gerald's assistance, raising his own wand against their attackers.

"Oliver, don't do this," Hermione asked, "You know he-"

Just then, out of the the settling dust, rose a long, skeletal spike. It burst from the fallen demon's back and struck down directly into Oliver's shoulder, causing him to drop his wand and shriek in pain as blood splattered onto the side of his face.

As Oliver faltered from his friend's side, leaning downward trying desperately to retrieve his weapon, Gerald stood, all aspects of humanity removed from him.

In place of the small, queer looking man, was a black creature that loomed higher than everyone in the room. Broad chest and thin abdomen, standing on haunches like that of a satyr though they were as bare the rest of his body. His face had become angled and pointed with sharp white horns lining his skull from forehead to the back of the neck. Large, red eyes shone with cruel intent and the entire beast was framed with wings of bone, completely lacking any skin.

"Bloody Hell," Ron squeaked softly.

Each wizard and witch gazed at the creature as it stopped moving. Even its eyes were still, suddenly giving the semblance of a statue. Everyone tried to match its quiet, unsure of their best approach.

It was Oliver who caused things to stir once more. He had gotten hold of his wand though he kept his hands open, placating the demon instead of assaulting him.

"Ger, se parakalo, adelfe...se parakalo..."

The beast seemed to consider the man's words, but they weren't enough. Gerald dropped jaw open to reveal his multiple fang-like teeth and emitted a sound that only the descriptor 'demonic' could accurately define. It was powerful, but not loud; deep, but like a squeal.

The creature bound forward, knocking Oliver to the ground as its sites set beyond him and to the wizards who had wands charged, beginning to fire charms just as before.

"Sectum sempra!" Harry shouted the deadly spell which successfully found its target.


	36. Chapter 34: Reinforcements

The curse might have hit the demon, but nobody was sure if it had had the desired effect. Gerald had pulled back when struck though he didn't fall as cuts appeared everywhere on his blackened body. Instead of flowing blood, however, each wound released a puff of smoke as if having torn into ash...and even though that was exactly what it looked like his body consisted of, an unfamiliar liquid matching his new skin color began spotting from the injuries.

The beast paused, looking down at himself as if he didn't know what was happening either. He quickly recovered his mind though, and set sight on the wizard who had cast the spell. Catching the auror off guard, Gerald swiped the long blade-like claws that his arms had returned to.

Harry jumped, but was unable to avoid the blow completely. The claws successfully cut into the side of his arm enough to create deep gashes and make him lose control of his wand. The wooden weapon plopped onto the floor as the demon rose a second arm and swiped at the senior Weasely, who mostly evaded the attack, parrying with a defensive spell that caused Gerald to jerk his claws away.

Ginny, Hermione, and Ron simultaneously cast the stupefy charm, as doing so had been what stopped Gerald before, but the demon was in full control this time and immediately leapt backward as the word left their lips.

He threw his curled body through double windows that had been hidden by curtains. The creature was just barely small enough to pull off the maneuver. His wings as well as the tips of his blades did catch on the fabric, however, ripping it as he fell down two stories to the ground below.

Oliver managed to get up once more and rushed to the broken glass and peered out as did the rest of the wizards in the room. Upon landing, the demon gazed back up at the others, cocking his head to the side, his bright eyes shone like headlights. He made the same powerful screeching sound as before, bony wings extending to their full length and then moving rapidly towards the group, stabbing wildly at them.

Harry spun to his side, Ginny ducked, and Ron and his father fell back further into the room to get away, but Hermione took the opportunity to grab hold of one of the long, pointed bones. Gerald responded by retracting the wing, taking the witch with it.

"HERMIONE!" Ron yelled, jumping up and bolting to the window.

The rest of the demon retreated as well as its full attention was put on the woman who was apparently too heavy for the thin wings. She had somehow pushed off of the bone and was now strattling Gerald's back. Ron, frightened by the scene, hopped through the open window frame, aiming his wand at the dirt below and creating a small bubble to take the brunt of the fall away from him.

Just as his other companions followed the redhead's lead, demon Gerald bucked almost like a horse, throwing Hermione from his back and immediately when the action ended, used his cloven hooves to kick Ron to the ground before he was able to cast an attack.

Oliver was the last one to join the new battle ground, prompted to jump when Harry pointed his wand, now held by his left hand, and shouted, 'INCARCEROUS!' once and then re-positioning his aim, a second time. The first spell conjured ropes that wrapped around the demon, forcing his arms and claws to his side while the second failed to properly reign in Gerald's wings.

Flicking the binds away from the skeletal spikes that protruded from its back, the demon screeched once again while attempting to break the cord wrapped around his torso. This time the noise was louder and it lasted longer...

A bright red energy, matching the demon's eyes, collected inside its open jaw just like that at the tip of a wand when a wizard used it. The ball of light grew to an enormous size and the wizards were too startled by the strange magic to react at first.

Fortunately, Oliver knew how to counter the attack...and stop the demon.

Stepping forward, past the aurors, past their wives and Mr. Weasely, Oliver held his own wand high and aimed at his friend. His wounded arm struggled to keep the weapon in position and the strain showed in his movements and on his face, but he persisted. Silver strands of light gathered at the end of the wand, becoming more pronounced and brighter.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" the wizard finally ordered.

In a bright beam of nearly white energy, the form of a large hawk appeared, flying and screeching back at the demon. Oliver held his ground, determined to keep the spell powerful and fend off his now purely demonic friend. The company watched in awe as Gerald closed his jaw, smothering the energy, and then stepping backward away from the patronus Oliver had summoned.

 _How about the Patronus Charm?_

Harry thought back to the session with Gerald at the beginning of it all. He had come to the ministry to be registered in their system and to prove that he truly did not need a wand and wasn't simply trying to hide his used spells by concealing his weapon.

Gerald had become somber at the mention of the spell. _Sorry,_ he had said, _I can't cast a patronus._

Neither Harry nor Ron or even Saul Croaker had thought much of it. The Patronus Charm was an advanced spell...not something everyone was capable of. It required a massive amount of energy and took a great toll on the caster. At the time, they had simply thought Gerald wasn't strong or experienced with the magic enough to use it, but watching the creature retreat from the silver bird of prey...

The dark being that Gerald was...that was what kept him from being able to channel a patronus of his own. His own energy negated the capability.

The light coming from Oliver's wand started to flicker then...his arm was weakening and twitching...his body wavering. He wasn't going to be able to keep it up.

Harry and the others hurried to stand alongside the wizard and summon their own patronus. Just as they began to speak, Oliver lost control of his spell, the light and the bird disappearing at once. In the brief instant between its death and the completion of the new incantations...A cold burst suddenly came upon them...chilly, bony grips taking hold of each of their wrists from behind...attempting to free them of their wands.

Before any of them could twist to see these new people, Gerald had regained himself and the demon leapt forward again. This time, he used his wings to throw everyone to the ground, but the newcomers were much too fast to fall victim...instead making leaps themselves.

Harry thudded to the ground with a roll, his wand flying from him as well as the bones that were still wrapped up inside his robes. Arthur and his son were the first to stand again, but there was no point. Those new to the scene easily clutched the wizards' arms, tightly restraining them from further movement. Glancing around at his comrades, Harry saw that Ginny was the only one who had kept hold of her wand.

Not moving, but hurrying to cast an attack, she pointed the wand at a man who casually approached her and yanked the weapon away, kicking the girl in her chest with inhuman force. Yelling with the blunt pain, she fell onto her back, her body curling into a fetal position.

"HEY!" Harry shouted at the man who had attacked his wife, struggling to stand.

But before he could even blink, the man had come upon him, grabbing his robes at the neck and smirking to reveal yellowed teeth...one fang on either side. The vampires... He threw Harry back to the ground with the same super-strength, knocking the wind out of his lungs.

As the auror started becoming able to take in his surroundings again, he saw that three of these vampires had taken to trying to restrain a furious Gerald, still appearing as the demon. There were two men on either side of him with a hold on his wings and a woman at his front, who had hands on his upper arms. Even though he jerked about and tore into the creatures' skin, the vampires kept tight to him, never releasing from their grasps.

"Ger..." Oliver's voice was strained as he choked out the name. The male vampire that had thrust Harry into breathlessness had taken hold of Oliver's neck, making a show of squeezing it, lifting him into the air in front of Gerald.

Harry suddenly realized that the three vampires on Gerald and the one hurting Oliver were a diversion. Behind the demon, another blood-sucker appeared, leaping onto the demon's back and sinking his teeth into his neck and ripping a massive part of it away.

The attack hurt Gerald, but seemingly not as much as it shocked him...because the person on his back...was his lost friend, Brad.

Gerald continued to writhe about, trying to get away from the assault at first, but gradually, his movements ceased...and his form began devolving back into a man as he fell to the ground, still conscious though in a seemingly drunken state. The first three vampires moved away from the now human-looking Gerald and Brad removed his fangs, but kept upon his brother's back, carefully keeping him secure.

Harry glanced around again. Arthur and Ron were being held in the same position as before. Hermione, still on the ground, had inched over to Ginny and was trying to help her regain herself, a vampire looming over them both, chuckling. And the one with grips on Oliver's throat, lowered the wizard to the ground, but kept him in his hold. The vampire then gave a look...a silent command to his companions.

In a moment of panic as he saw the vampires holding his brother and father in law open jaws wide, Harry jolted forward, ignoring any discomfort as he reached for both his wand...and the pile of bones. The lead creature twisted his head to the auror just as Harry took the items into his possession and aimed his wand at Gerald's gift.

"Protect mine to earn yourself!" the auror barely managed not to jumble the incantation with as rapidly as he spoke it.

Just as the last word left his lips, the leader of the group of vampires had grabbed onto Harry again...but instantly let go upon seeing the wizard had released the energy bound to the loose bones he held. The man stepped backward, away from Harry with a hiss, his expression furious as he turned his attention on Gerald, knowing it was the necromancer's magic.

Gerald, aware enough to see what had happened, smirked at the auror as his old friend pulled him by his back and up from the ground, the other vampires joining him as they began slowly venturing away, taking Oliver with them as well. Mr. Weasely, Ron, and Harry all regained themselves and huddled about the witches, wondering what the finger bones had been charmed to do.

It didn't take much longer for them to find out. Raspy screams began sounding around the two groups. It was something Harry hadn't heard since just before Albus Dumbledore had been killed...it was the sound of inferi...or at least he thought.

A grey circle of fog started rising from the ground in front of Harry and his allies, taking the dirt from the ground to create the forms of mutated human corpses...appearing to be made of the same ashy dust as a dementor...but the beings weren't evil. They weren't soulless. In the presence of a dementor, all that could be felt was fear and emptiness. However, these...being around them invoked only sadness and pity.

Studying the summoned creatures, one gazed upon Harry...an expression of torment and anguish that the young wizard had never witnessed before. There were five...one for each person a bone had been stolen from. They crept toward the vampires, slowly at first, but then gaining the same inhuman speed as their targets.

The vampires did not try to defend themselves, but rather ran away from the 'ghosts' desperately trying to grab hold of the living bodies. Harry and the others watched intently as the vampires evaded the beings, slowly fading into the darkness one by one, leaving Gerald's minions empty handed.

The summoned creatures stopped...pausing in the distance and turning to face the wizards again, who had retrieved their weapons, aiming the wands nervously. In a mere moment, the unknown and unnatural beings were back in front of them...eyes full of sorrow quietly pleading to be let go...

Harry gazed down at the bones in his hand...then at the strangers standing before him...Unsure, the auror lifted the charmed items to show them what had been taken...then he nodded his head as if in thanks and confirmation they had done what they were cursed to. Their eyes closed as a breeze suddenly swept in...and blew their essence away, leaving nothing of them behind except the stolen bones...


	37. Chapter 35: Progress?

"I thought we were getting somewhere, but now I'm not so sure," the lead auror admitted in frustration to the Minister for Magic.

Harry and Ron had been readying to go before the man personally to report the latest turn in the Davis case only for Shacklebolt to instead show up at the eldest Weaseley's home just as they were doing so. His intuition had told him things were not going well. Hermione, Arthur, Ginny, George, and the aurors had been sharing the details of the night while Molly prepared tea and then stood nervously taking in the repeated stories.

"Let me get this straight," the Minister's strong voice hummed as he set down his steaming cup. "Grindelwald experimented on his pregnant lover to create his son as some sort of demonic creature. Gerald lost control of himself and his friend Oliver, who Gerald has been apparently very dishonest with, defended him. Then," the wizard paused, "Vampires took them both away."

"And his muggle friend is a vampire too," Ron added, drawing an odd look from the Minister.

"If he's a muggle, then he couldn't have become a vampire," Hermione retorted. "Seeing as to become a vampire, one has to give up their magic."

"Well, he did bite Gerald like a vampire, yeah?" Ron pointed out.

"Then I would imagine," his wife returned angrily, "That he is working under the vampires' control."

The redhead added nothing more to the argument, having long learned his lesson to just let things be when Hermione was so certain of herself. Ron leaned back in the couch between his two partners who slowly looked away from him as he began sipping on his tea.

The story sounded ridiculous. Especially put so simply...yet that was how it happened. To an investigator whose job it was to find out the truth and bring dark, evil wizards to justice, the situation was exasperating to realize that what was being dealt with were things unknown. Even as the pieces of the puzzle were put together, the picture they revealed didn't make sense. Nothing was known about demons, very little was known of vampires, and necromancy was... It was not a dark magic that was even thought to really exist...or at least not like this. Not in centuries. Harry didn't like the idea that it was a reality in such a powerful sense and that it was wielded by a man...a beast like Gerald. The auror was only slightly comforted by the thought that the American didn't seem to have any desire to push an agenda as his father and his past mentor had. Then again, they couldn't be sure what it was his captors wanted...

"Hm. Gerald is, at this point, still our prime suspect in Lucius Malfoy's murder, but he will be charged with resisting arrest, assaulting officers of the law, practicing the dark arts, and inciting conspiracy in a muggle," Minister Shackelbolt said, "Your goal right now is to find and arrest him using any means necessary. This should go without saying, but treat him as extremely dangerous."

"What of Oliver and Brad?" Harry asked. "And if we should come across any of these vampires again?"

The Minister exhaled deeply and placed folded hands beneath his chin, "I find Mr. Smith's loyalty rather odd..." he trailed off, shifting his sight to the company as if for their thoughts.

Arthur was the first to speak up, "I do as well. Gerald, for some reason, was honest with his bandmates regarding his father and having learned beneath Voldemort and therefore of his agelessness and wandless magic. He even told them about killing his mother, yet he neglected to tell them of his association with Malfoy, his necromancy, and anything of his true nature. This demon or what have you."

"It seems he said nothing about the vampires either or at the very least tried to hide that too," Hermione stated.

"Why would he be straight-forward with some of these things and deceitful about the rest?" Ginny inquired.

"All that MACUSA knew were the things that he shared with Oliver and Brad," Harry acknowledged. "Maybe he figured the probability of Oliver finding out, since he was also a wizard, was too high for him to lie about."

"So we're back to assuming that he doesn't care about his friends then?" the other auror questioned.

"I don't think he knows how to be honest," Harry was the one to answer again. "His life has been about self-preservation. His mother had him in hiding, he had to hide being on Voldemort's side, and even after his teacher died, he's had to continue hiding from MACUSA. I don't think it's as simple as him not caring about his friends, but rather...he's just messed up."

"That's actually a might sad," Molly's motherly voice kicked in.

Arthur reached for his wife's hand and rubbed her palm, giving her an understanding smile before putting his attention back on the dire matters at hand, "But Oliver isn't. Up until a decade ago, he had a normal life. When his parents died, he left everything and went to America where he stumbled upon Gerald. Now, even if he was able to take in what Gerald told him and judge him innocent, Oliver has since learned more about his friend that proves he isn't as he has presented. Some things before they came to England were revealed that apparently put doubt into Oliver's head, but with what has been discovered here..."

"Mr. Smith seemed to be at his wit's end after only some of these matters," the Minister picked up, "But suddenly, when even more came to light, namely the cursed bones given to his brother which he voiced his upset of, he's adamantly on Gerald's side once more."

"Do you think that...that Gerald started using the Imperius curse to control Oliver?" Hermione breathed.

Minister Shacklebolt purred, "I would not doubt it, though we will not approach any of them as if this is a possibility. Merlin knows that too many have been let off the hook for claiming use of this magic against them. As much as I fear it's true, do not put the idea out there. Instead, let us see what happens. If you see Oliver, arrest him for aiding in the escape of a wanted criminal."

"Right," Harry agreed absentmindedly.

"As for Brad," the Minister continued, "Treat him as any other muggle that is causing a problem. Arrest him and obliviate him. But not until after you have confirmed that he is not of magical blood. If you find any magical connection while he is in custody, get me at once."

"And the vampires?" Ron squeaked.

"If any of you recognize the ones that you saw, I am giving you allowance to subdue them. The crime being their attack on you," Shacklebolt's gaze upon the company was intense, bringing solemn nods from each and a nervous swallow from the younger auror. "Otherwise, seek to learn only. If we start arresting beings without reason, we will bring another issue entirely upon ourselves." He stood with those last words and began heading for the door.

Harry quickly rose and stepped after him, "Sir, Draco is bound to start up with something again. He thinks we're not doing enough for his father. I hate to say it, but charging him with interference isn't going to do anything but antagonize the situation."

Shacklebolt spun on his heels to face the younger wizard, "Then tell him that Gerald is being sought for the murder of Lucius. Keep him in the loop. Do what you must to appease him. His cooperation may lead to his help which might actually be beneficial for us."

"You're saying let him join in on the hunt if he wishes?" Hermione shot up from her seat.

"Indeed," the Minister confirmed, "Under a watchful eye, of course. A bit selfish and green still, Draco is not the evil man his father was. And as far as I've come to understand, he's capable enough in his skills to work alongside you."

"Not to mention he and his mother remain with many contacts and other resources that could lend this case aid," Arthur contributed from his chair.

"Hm. Well, I must decide how I will update the President of MACUSA. They've previously wiped their hands of Gerald, letting him be our problem, but...I wonder if given this new information, they would be interested in becoming involved again in order to learn about this strange being themselves," Shacklebolt sighed. "I would prefer they stay out of the picture and continue to let us handle him as we will. Gerald's already proven how well he handles having too many people nosing about."

The Minister kept on his way, carefully followed out by Molly Weaseley who bid him farewell at the door, watching him disapparate before closing it behind him and returning to the small den where her family waited.

"So, this guy is a necromancer?" George, who had been silently attending the conversation finally spoke up.

"Yeah, but don't you go on spouting your mouth," his younger brother poked playfully, but George's demeanor was anything but lighthearted.

"Yes," Hermione started in gently, "We don't really know much about it except it's a magic that evolved from divination."

"But he's brought Malfoy back to life?" George mused.

"As a ghost maybe," Ginny said, "But we don't know that was him."

"What about the other people? The ones that fended the vampires off? He definitely did that," her brother pressed.

"Yes and we don't know at what cost to them that it was done," Arthur butted in, not liking his depressed son's line of questioning.

Turning to gaze upon his concerned father's face, George shrugged, "I was just curious. This is the first I'm really hearing about all this."

Arthur released an audible sigh, "This is dangerous. I don't want your curiosity getting the best of you."

George rolled his eyes and shrugged again, offering an unconvincing laugh, "Yeah, yeah, Dad."

Harry and Hermione only barely caught onto the elder Weasely's thoughts behind shutting down his son's inquiries, exchanging subtle glances that they would speak with Ron on it later. They needn't cause any more alarm by voicing their suspicion in front if the others.

"Off to speak with the Malfoys and Stephen tomorrow then, yeah?" the redheaded auror spoke suddenly, easing the quiet tension that had overcome the home.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "And we will need to hear Croaker's thoughts as well. Hopefully these events can help him determine more."

"I'll be researching and see what more I can find as well," Hermione chimed in, "I feel that Karkaroff might be able to offer more now that his side of things have settled down."

"As far as we are aware, they have anyway," Ron clarified.

"We will send an owl and see," the lead actor decided, turning sights onto his father-in-law, "We may be paying Charlie a visit in Romania soon. Especially if we come up short elsewhere."

"According to him, the likelihood of vampires being found in the area is immense if they do, indeed, exist at all," Arthur replied.

"And they obviously exist," Ginny said.

"It would be the best place to start if we find nothing else anyway," Hermione nodded.

"But all this can start in the morning," Molly smiled, walking around her husband's seat and lifting the tea tray from the table. "For now, I've got supper ready, then you all need to get a good night's sleep."

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Sorry for taking so long to update! I've been working on my original novel, Visitor's Blood. It's on Wattpad if you'd like to check it out. Hope everyone is having a great holiday season!**


	38. Chapter 36: Demonology

"I received your note. It did help to clear a few things, but I'm not sure how useful it will be for your case," Saul Croaker informed the aurors, having come into their office only a few hours after they had left word about their most recent encounter with Gerald.

"Anything is something," Harry replied half-heartedly. "What is it?"

"I originally said his blood seemed inhuman, but not like any creature I had before seen so I had been working under the assumption that those properties were something else- some sort of magic imbued to him rather than that of another being entirely. When I heard your description of his transformation, this assumption led me to first compare him to a being that behaves similarly, a werewolf," the unspeakable shared. "Werewolves, as I'm sure you know, are simply humans that have been infected with a virus. Gerald's blood did not present in the same manner as this. That would typically lead to thinking that he is instead a hybrid creature since there is distinctly human blood and that of a second species. However, that did not seem logical to me."

The younger men exchanged glances when Croaker paused, each wondering the same thing, "Why didn't it make sense?" the lead auror asked, switching his weight from one foot to the other as he stood in front of the other two seated wizards, and crossing his arms in focus.

"Several reasons, actually," the unspeakable cleared his throat, "Take any hybrid being: a half-veela or a half-giant even, such as your old friend Hagrid. These beings are a mixture, a blend, of two species. Hagrid, for example, shows traits of both his human and giant parent at once. He doesn't shift from being human to being giant. Gerald might have at first fit this bill, but after knowing of his morph...it would make more sense if he were infected with something that caused the change or otherwise used magic such as transfiguration to become the beast."

"Sort of like an animagus, you mean?" Ron clarified.

"Precisely," Croaker gave a small nod, "But it appears that he is not willing of these transformations and his blood is permanently altered. Both of these are not traits of animagi, who voluntarily change themselves while retaining their full humanity whilst in human form."

"I guess that rules out the possibility of someone else using transfiguration on him as well," Harry mused, eyes gazing momentarily downward as he put the thought together, "Because he still would have fully human blood when not transformed."

"His being a hybrid and being able to shift forms might not be usual, but it's obviously what is going on though, right?" Ron stated bluntly. "This second species is not something known so it could very well be some sort of natural shape-shifter."

The elder wizard gave a gruff and reluctantly affirmed, "Yes, and I would love to get a sample from him while he is changed in order to study this further. Also, I was able to get information from an American contact that confirms Delilah Davis and Gellert Grindelwald were both human on all accounts."

The dark-haired auror dropped his arms to his sides and the redhead twisted in his seat. Both stared at the third wizard in their company for a moment, considering what was said. "If...if both of his parents were human...and he's a hybrid...then...one of them wasn't his parent," Ron awkwardly mumbled the conclusion.

"Ah! but they are," the unspeakable chuckled slyly, "My contact compared the blood to what was in MACUSA's resources as Gellert's own blood as well as Delilah's and Gerald is, beyond doubt, their son. You see why all this is confusing to think him a hybrid?"

"So he has the blood of two different species...but both parents are human," Harry was staring at the floor again, "That means Grindelwald's experiments on him had to be merging this demonic DNA with his human son," the auror looked up, straight into Croaker's eyes, "He wasn't conceived a hybrid, he was created. He technically has three parents."

"As fantastical as it sounds, it has to be," the unspeakable sighed. "This demonic blood...its DNA...is a very strong essence. It presents as both physical and ethereal."

"Ethereal?" Ron repeated.

"Magical," Croaker answered.

A brief silence fell upon the room as each wizard took in the surrealism of their current predicament. Harry ran over each detail in his mind to attempt to make the most sense of it. Gerald had two human parents, yet also had a third unknown creature's life in his blood. This essence wasn't a virus or a spell, it was part of him. It was apparently also a shape-shifter and Grindelwald forced this blood to meld with his son before he was even born...and most importantly, Gerald didn't have control over this part of him...

"Is that why he's so angry?" Harry asked, breaking the quiet and looking back upon Croaker. "You were struck by the amount of anger Gerald held onto when you first read his blood. Is it trying to control this demonic side of him that makes it so great?"

The unspeakable stared at the younger wizard for a minute or two before swallowing, "I believe that has a lot to do with it. Like I said, it seemed to be much like a werewolf except werewolves can only transform at a very specific time. They can also prevent it with certain potions. Gerald...doesn't appear to have this luxury. His morphs have been at random times. His difficulty with control has been evident from the start. I can't imagine a constant battle with a beast like that is easy."

Harry slowly nodded his head in understanding and leaned back to sit on top of the desk behind him. Raising a hand to his chin, he stroked the bottom of his jaw line with a thumb and set his vision blankly to the door of the room. Recalling his third year at Hogwarts when his godfather, Sirius Black, had tried to make Professor Lupin hold onto who he was while he transformed into the were-creature and everything he had learned about werewolves since...it once more made the auror feel sympathetic toward Gerald. But he couldn't let it keep him from finding justice. Hardship or not, Grindelwald's son had a dimly colored past and present. Many underwent terrible lives and yet still chose to do right by their fellow men. As sad as some things about the dark wizard, he continued to be just that: a _dark_ wizard...and Harry was sworn to protect the world from such.

"Well, that was all I had to give," Unspeakable Croaker stood carefully from his seat and strolled to the closed office door, resting his hand upon the handle, "I will continue to see if I can find anything more about this 'demon' blood. Please inform me if you also find anything of use."

"Of course," Harry answered absentmindedly, not moving from his position.

"Hm," Croaker hummed in response and then opened the door and let himself out.

Ron sat forward in his seat, tipping a wand at the door to close it behind their departed associate before placing his sights on his partner, "What is it, mate?"

"Nothing, just tired," the lead auror shook from his thoughts and smiled at his friend, "We've spoken to Croaker. Stephen assures us he will notify our department should his brother come around and I've sent word to Karkaroff... How about we take lunch and see if what Hermione has come across?"

"Sounds good, mate. I'm starving!" Ron grinned.

Harry chuckled to himself knowing his friend's wife would have something smart to say about his insatiable appetite, but kept silent himself as the two made their way out of the office and through the usual trek to get back to their homes. It was normal for them to stop at the Granger-Weaseley residence first on such occasions, so it was no surprise when they saw Ginny was already there, having anticipated the aurors' return for the midday meal.

"You're right on time, boys," the redheaded witch smiled, skipping over to peck her husband on the cheek before scurrying back away. She flicked her wand toward the kitchen to command already filled dinner plates to fly into the living area where the other witch was huddled over several bits of parchment.

"You get anything interesting?" Ron neared his wife who was too focused to register that he had kissed the top of her head.

"After I learned about wizardry, I never paid much attention to ghost stories," Hermione shared, seemingly at random. The blank looks from the wizards as they sat down and took their plates caused her to laugh and clarify herself. "What I mean is, it's near common knowledge in many muggle cultures that there are demonologists, people who study demons."

"What's that have to do with ghosts though?" Ron asked through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"Muggles have typically connected the two, seeing both as types of spirits," Harry answered. "Ghosts being spirits of the dead and demons being malevolent creatures that exist in spiritual form."

"You've heard of them, then?" Hermione's question sounded almost accusatory.

Harry looked up from his plate to see that the others were confusedly looking at him. "Uh, I...I didn't really think about it, but no. Not really. I just remember sneaking books into my closet. Before magic as well..." he glanced at Hermione, receiving a small look of sympathy for Harry's horrid childhood with the Dursley's. "I read a collection of ghost stories. It mentioned it, is all."

"I didn't realize that muggles saw ghosts, actually," Ginny admitted.

"No, you remember, Ginny," her brother gulped down a mouthful of food, "Dad was telling us once that some muggles see them, it's just easier for people of magic to."

"Oh. I guess I don't remember that..." the young woman seemed keen to recall the event, yet couldn't. So instead, she kept on with what she had previously learned from the her sister-in-law, "Anyway, there seems to be a lot of proof and disproof on the subject of spirits for them. Nothing certain either way. Some take these demonologists seriously and some don't."

"Yeah, Dad said," the ravenous auror shoveled down another bite, "That muggles have had lots of different theories like that about wizardry over the years. Uh...religions, they called it, yeah?"

"Ron, you are so disgusting," his wife sighed as he went in for yet another quick bite.

"A-what?" he gave her a dumb look.

"Slow. Down," the witch ordered. Ginny and Harry both giggled as Ron shot them a glare. "I know what religion is, but my family was scientifically focused. What about your- uh, the Dursley's, I mean?" she asked Harry.

"I don't believe they focused on much other than themselves," the lead auror's voice was suddenly hollow and Hermione felt badly for having asked. "Demonology," he breathed, "Does it seem to have any truth to it?"

"Surprisingly so," the researcher nodded, enthusiasm coming back, "It also makes a lot of interesting points although I am fully convinced that many of their 'demons' are just ghosts, wizards, or other magical creatures having a poke at them. In any case, demonologists work with occurrences both present and ancient," Hermione continued, "Demons have generally come to be regarded as mischievous creatures, even evil or parasitic, but one thing that stood out to me was the Ancient Greek accounts of them. In that time and place, demons were simply said to be beings of divine power. Many were even thought of as guides."

"I've never heard the term demon meant as something other than dark and evil," Harry interjected.

"You see, that's just it," Ginny picked up, "People today usually see dark and evil as the same thing, but in most older cultures they weren't. Neither were light and good."

"How's that?" Ron asked in confusion.

"It's said that good and evil denote intent. An evil person, for example, would do something for the sole purpose of being cruel. A good person would act only to help someone else. That's putting it very simply, of course," Hermione explained. "Light and dark, however, are an essence. Take a spiked mace-"

"A what?" Ginny asked.

"It's a weapon," her brother laughed at her ignorance, "It's basically a baseball bat with spikes on the end."

The witch furrowed her brow, "Lovely..."

"The mace would be dark and say, a bouquet of roses would be light," Hermione finished.

"Or daffodils, yeah?" Ron chuckled, recalling to everyone's mind the flowers that Gerald had given him the day he was made to prove his powers. The redhead's smile fell quickly as a new thought struck him. "Do you think he was flirting with me?"

The room erupted in laughter as the man sulked, still questioning the gift. It was an inappropriate time for such jovial fun, but none in the room were able to resist. Order did settle back upon them eventually and then an awkward silence fell. Harry was the one to remedy it.

"Both the flowers, something of light, and the mace, something of dark, could be used in a good or evil manner. I see what you're saying," he mused, "So demons are dark, but not necessarily evil."

Hermione nodded, "But that is not so important. I was just pointing out that the Greek were a large part of history for demons since Oliver spoke Greek to Gerald and Lucius is bound to only speak that language. Thought it was too much of a coincidence. There are other connections as well. Demons were told to prey on or help the weak. People without magic would be weaker. Just like vampires...it makes sense that both creatures go without much notice because they tend toward staying in muggle environments."

"Even after knowing magic, Gerald stayed amongst muggles and each time we've seen him around wizards, he's been more on edge. His paranoia and loneliness would definitely make more sense even knowing his past," Harry inferred.

"What did these demonologists have to say about breeding?" Ron asked, "I mean, how would Grindelwald have merged a human with a demon?"

"It's not like that," Hermione sighed. "According to all this," she gestured a hand across the paper covered table in front of them, "They are spiritual. They are creatures that exist in another realm or dimension or what you will. Like the afterlife. They travel between that world and this one. I'm not sure how Grindelwald would have done this, but from what I read, it's believed that it's possible to summon a demon through certain rituals or what frail thing that muggles perceive as magic. Muggles are susceptible to possession. What if Grindelwald intentionally called upon a demon to possess his son so he could bind and control it?"

"If demons are ethereal beings, then somehow Grindelwald merged one with a physical being...his son..." the lead auror rubbed his chin, as he looked down at the plate in his lap, "Gerald doesn't have control of himself, but he's not possessed," he looked solemnly back up, "Croaker said that his blood was like a hybrid of two creatures, not a parasite or a virus living inside him."

Quiet stilled the house once more. It appeared that the picture was becoming clearer, even if this was all educated conjecture and not solid fact. All of them sat, silently contemplating the complexity of the case and the idea that the non-magical community might actually know things of the world that they, themselves, did not. It was all an intriguing discovery, yet also frustrating and a bit terrifying.

"Well, perhaps while we're waiting to hear from Karkaroff," Ron picked up his fork and started eating again, "We can go back to where we met the vampires," he chewed a few times, "and lost Gerald and Oliver," more chewing, "After we finish lunch, of course."

Hermione exhaled loudly and rolled her eyes, "It is a good idea," she reluctantly agreed, grabbing her own fork.

"If anything, to see if we can find a clue to whose bones those were," Harry added. "I don't think I'll be able to stop thinking about it until they're returned..."


	39. Chapter 37: Unfortunate Friend

The group's conversation had gone here and there after that. Talking about the case, about America, Ginny's daily training during the season, and even on simple plans for the future like having kids of their own. Harry's mind, however, kept returning to the cursed bones Gerald had originally gifted to Oliver's brother. It was a gesture with no purpose other than to protect the man and his wife so it once more confirmed that, no matter how small, the strange wizard did have a heart.

The auror was less concerned with that. His focus was on what damage Gerald had done to the owners of those bones...what turmoil he had caused Lucius Malfoy and others with his dark necromancy... This trail of thinking led him to remembering his own lost loved ones: his parents, his godfather, Cedric Diggory, Fred Weaseley... As the name of his deceased brother-in-law hit his brain, Harry had decided to bring up the morbid possibility that had crossed him and Hermione when Arthur interrupted George's questions before.

The poor guy was far from okay, having to deal with the loss of his twin, but surely he wouldn't seek the use of dark magic to see his brother again. Ron completely shut the idea down, deeming it preposterous. And although Ginny and Hermione obviously wanted to as well, they both hesitated before verbally denying that it would happen. Like George had said, it was just curiosity.

When the meal was finished and the mess was cleaned, the four wizards set off for the old Riddle property. This time around was easier since all could now apparate to the place themselves, but they were just as careful as before should danger await them on the other side. Once more, though, nothing could be seen. Their process was identical to the previous visit. First was a stroll through the cemetery which yet again was fruitless.

It was disappointing for Harry, truly feeling that something had been overlooked the last time and hoped to discover anything to show from where the bones had been stolen. Sighing, he put his attention on the home with the others. The casual walk to the building was filled with constant visual searches of the surrounding land. Nothing was seen or heard, but the ever-looming sense that the company was being watched remained. After this many treks to the property, the lead auror was convinced a spell had been cast over it to give trespassers an uneasy feeling as a means of protection. He was certain nothing was actually there. Nonetheless, they would stay vigilant.

When the raggedy home was near, Hermione spoke softly, raising her wand and reiterating the uselessness of the revelo charm in this instance. Inside, the witches and the redheaded auror started around the base floor, but Harry immediately crept up the stairs on an impulse. The rest took notice though they said nothing. Only quickly finished their inspections, wands in hand, and followed behind their leader.

The head auror's intuition was revealed to be correct when, turning into the same room as before, he laid sights on a man, dressed in dirty clothing, sitting in the window Gerald had broken two days prior after transforming into a demon. The man was facing outside, away from Harry, with legs bent at the knee and hanging off the outside wall.

"Oliver?" the auror stood still in a position just far enough inside the room that his companions could also enter, and aimed his wand at the man.

The other three soon stepped inside as well and readied their weapons should a battle ensue. Oliver, however, stayed silently staring over the landscape in front of him. Harry eased to the side in order to get a better view of the wizard while his teammates spread out further without getting any closer to the suspect. The moment the dark-headed auror was in Oliver's side vision, the lone man scoffed, showing a brief smile of surrender.

"Here," his voice was barely audible as he lifted a hand from his lap.

The auror back-pedaled a pace and took a firmer grasp on his wand when Oliver's raised arm revealed to hold his own, though loosely and without intent. The wizard gave a white flag by tossing the weapon aimlessly in Harry's direction. The armed man knelt to pick up the discarded stick while keeping his upon the criminal. After retrieving it, he began treading near again in order to inform of the arrest to be made, but Oliver beat him to speaking.

"I feel like a moron, Mr. Potter," he confessed, "I really do."

Harry, easily sympathetic, softly asked, "What happened?" yet stuck to his job by tipping his head at Ron, telling him to arrest the man.

"I gave him... I put too much faith in him," the defeated wizard sighed as Ron's incarcerous spell bound his wrists together.

Both aurors lowered their wands as did their wives. Ron took hold of the ropes tying Oliver's hands and of his shoulder, then pulled the man man up to stand. He turned to face Harry, following the detective's gentle pushing. Head hung, he shook it and continued chiding himself, "It was so stupid. I thought... I honestly thought that he wasn't evil. I knew he had done some things, but not..." Oliver lifted his head, obviously choking back tears as he gazed upon the lead auror, "I didn't know. I promise I didn't know..."

"What happened, Oliver?" Harry repeated more determinedly, "What did he do?"

The betrayed man broke his eyes away from directly looking at anyone and placed them on nothing in particular, but he did not drop his posture again. "He told me he killed Lucius Malfoy. Uh," Oliver scoffed at himself again as he tried to streamline his thoughts, "He- it was my impression that while under Voldemort...Tom Riddle...that it was all before the dark lord's full rise...that he didn't really hurt any-" the man swallowed hard and blinked his eyes several times, "He did though. This necromancy... He _did_ hurt people...kill them. I'm just... I'm just so stupid..."

Oliver broke into a sob, finally unable to hold back. Ron and Harry glanced at each other, then the head auror looked at the witches who also seemed pained by the criminal's state. None of them believed he was a dark person. They all were aware that he had been tricked and lied to...that it was Gerald at fault. If nothing dubious came to light, the aurors were sure that Oliver would be given leniency. For now, though, the situation must be completely assessed.

"Has he hurt anyone else more recently? Other than Lucius?" Harry prodded.

The captive wizard was shaking his head, pursing and folding his lips in chaotic thought, "Brad. Brad said that up until a few years after I came around...that Gerald had killed a handful of people...including magical people. He, uh, apparently helped Gerald a couple of times."

Even with having surmised that the muggle wasn't concerned with legality or morality, but rather the well-being of his friend, it was still a bit of a shock to the investigators to hear this bit of information.

"Did Gerald confirm that?" Ron asked from behind the man, who nodded in response.

"What about here, since you left America?" the other auror inquired.

"Lucius...some vampire underlings...and...I don't think there was anyone else," Oliver appeared genuine. "These vampires have had an eye on him ever since we came here...or so they say...so Gerald says..."

"Do they still have him?" Harry asked.

Oliver nodded again, putting eyes on the auror, "Brad is still there as well."

"Alright," Harry breathed. "We have to take you in for aiding a dark wizard and resisting arrest."

The auror's words were nearly apologetic. He looked at Ron who then began leading the captive out of the room. Harry and the witches followed behind and all was silent as they journeyed though and exited the house. Outside once more, visual surveys were rapidly done before the aurors disapparated back to the entrance of the Ministry for Magic and their wives disapparated home.

The process of admitting Oliver was simple enough. He would be kept in a small jail for yet to be charged detainees while awaiting sentence. The first thing the investigators did was send immediate word to Minister Shackelbolt of Oliver's presence. Then, they talked to Mr. Smith in more detail before sending him to his temporary accommodations. Unfortunately, the Minister wasn't available to make a decision about the wizard's fate before the day ended as both Harry and Ron had hoped. Neither wanted to see Oliver detained yet they did well not to show their bias while interrogating him.

According to him, he had woken up in a dungeon like cell, his wand removed from his person. Gerald was with him, sitting in an opposite corner with his back leaning against the old brick wall. The dark wizard's hands, wrists, and arms were all bound by rope and chain to his chest, obviously to keep him from using his magic. In addition, Oliver said, he seemed intoxicated. His mind was clear, but he had difficulty moving his body. No doubt the effect of the vampiric magic.

Oliver attempted to free his friend, but was met with hostile words and growls. The white-haired man barked at his bandmate to leave him be and when Oliver had refused, he yelled further with aggressive confessions of his past crimes, of things he had blatantly hid, and so forth. He ended it with a threat not only on Oliver, but on his family, their friends, and the Ministry itself including personally naming Harry, Ron, Croaker, and Shackelbolt.

Oliver eased away, taken aback by the sudden violent ferocity in his years-old friend...and moreso by the admissions of guilt to various murders and other crimes. He was accustomed to the man losing his temper and saying harsh things...but what he told him, how direct his threats were...was anything but usual or understandably forgivable. It struck Oliver speechless and still.

The ruckus caught the attention of the vampires and three were soon standing in front of the cell door. One of which, was Brad. Only then did Oliver find his voice again, demanding the muggle explain what was going on...even pleading with the newly turned vampire lackey to fight against those controlling him.

Brad, who had been smiling, turned a frown. He assured his old friend that he was under no spell, that he had been approached by the dark creatures to work with them for Gerald's best interest. He had slowly watched the old wizard's emotional state worsen and he lost more and more control. It was then that he shared the numerous fights and those killings that Oliver had not been privy to, which occurred during the time between Gerald's allowing his relationship with Brad and when Oliver came along. Brad confessed to knowing about the demon prior to recent events. He also admitted to introducing Gerald to drugs, sex, alcohol, and self-harm as a means of control though he did not expect it to go so far...

The vampires, he said, knew a way to help the demon and offered it in exchange for his expertise in necromancy. Harry asked at that point what exactly they wanted, but Oliver insisted he wasn't told. He only knew that Brad assisted in their capture and let a vampire infect him because he believed the deception would convince Gerald to accept the offer.

After these revelations, the three vampires took the dark wizard away, leaving a dumbstruck Oliver alone in his cell for several hours. He later discovered he had fallen asleep when he was awakened by Brad standing over him. His first instinct was to attack the muggle vampire and he did, but without his wand, his try was futile against the being's superb strength. Brad did not hurt him, however. Not really. He only held the struggling wizard tight, apologizing for 'the mess' and offering a last encouraging statement before choking him into a blackout.

" _It will be okay, brother._ "


	40. Chapter 38: An Old Enemy

"Demons?" Igor Karkaroff spoke as if the young wizards were toying with him though Harry didn't believe that's what he thought was happening.

The aurors' gazes did not falter from the headmaster nor did they shift in their seats before him in his office at Durmstrang Institute. Word from the ex-deatheater awaited them the moment they showed up at the Ministry the next day informing them he would enjoy a discussion although had said nothing specific. Harry and Ron had immediately gotten Arthur to contact his elder son, Charlie, before making their way to Russia, thinking that perhaps it would be a good idea to journey to Romania directly afterward.

"Even as headmaster, I cannot be expected to memorize all that the Institute has on record," the bearded wizard retorted, "And as you know, information on Grindelwald was stolen. However, I can tell you that as far as any dark magical creature he was known to obsess over...there was only Death itself."

"The legend of the Deathly Hallows, sir?" Harry asked.

The professor hummed a low growl of confirmation, "That is something of which you are already aware, but your recent dabblings in the muggle study of demonology intrigued me...for as I recall from Gellert's file, he also looked into this."

The lead auror thought for a moment. Grindelwald had most definitely believed in the existence of the three magical artifacts of the Deathly Hallows story though Harry had never been clear as to whether he believed that it was the embodiment of Death that created these things. If he had looked into demonology as well...perhaps he had considered it possibility at the very least. After all, those items had to have been forged by someone.

"Do you know if any of his experiments involved trying to contact beings of another realm? The dead, for example," Harry inquired curiously.

"You mean did Grindelwald try to contact Death?" Karkaroff seemed to be dithering between saying the idea was incredulous and realizing that the wizard in question had been an extremist whose sanity had often been questioned. In the end, he gave a simple answer, "I have been working with others who have read his file. A few, in fact, who had known Grindelwald to some degree. With what we've been able to gather, his experiments consisted largely with magical creatures, both beast and being. He delved into the realms of blood study, divination, and, of course, the dark arts. Most of these experiments ended, if not started, in death. You said this dark wizard you're dealing with is a necromancer?"

The aurors nodded.

"Necromancy...the study of communication with the dead," the headmaster stated matter-of-factly, "It's a magic that was written off far in the past. It's true that it is an evolved form of divination. Where divination is generally the communication with a divine source in order to impart knowledge of time, necromancy is a grave connection with those who have passed from this life, calling upon them for both knowledge and power. Unlike divination which is largely meditation and channeling, it is a physical act," Karkaroff raised an eyebrow at Potter, "such as taking those bones and cursing the past owners to do the spell-caster's bidding... This is why necromancy is dark magic and divination is not."

Harry gave the older man a solemn stare, "I feel that if a dark wizard like Grindelwald was so focused on the Deathly Hallows, studying blood and death of creatures, and even looked into divination and demonology...that it wouldn't be an outrageous assumption that he might have thought he could contact or use the spirit that crafted the Hallows...whether or not that spirit was actually Death."

Headmaster Karkaroff leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers together with elbows bent onto the top of the desk. He paused, considering the auror and their conversation for a moment before speaking again, "With a mind like his, I suppose that that would be a likely conclusion," he agreed. "Mr. Potter, it interests me to what plans the Ministry has for this Gerald Davis."

Harry's brow furrowed as he glanced over at his partner who was also thrown off by the inquiry. Turning a confused look back to Durmstrang's headmaster, he begged for clarification, "Sir, I'm not certain I understand."

Karkaroff dropped his hands from position and laid them to rest face down between himself and his guest, "When you find this young Grindelwald...what will you do?"

The auror paused.

"With all due respect, I feel that should be obvious," Harry spoke flatly. "We will arrest him. If there is to be a fight doing so, we're authorized to do whatever is necessary to subdue him," the investigator cut his eyes pointedly at the ex-deatheater, "After that, it is up to the Ministry to review all evidence and charge him with his crimes."

The headmaster kept his eyes on Harry while he retrieved his hands from his desk and placed them in his lap. Then, humming, he nodded at his company, "Thank you for the visit, Mr. Potter...Mr. Weasely. Do let me know if there is anything else with which I can be of assistance."

The man's last words seemed to be sly. Yet then again, Karkaroff's demeanor always came off intimidatingly reserved and sometimes even shady, so Harry tried not to dwell on it. Instead, he gave a simple 'thank you' in return and the two aurors were soon back outside the school and heading off the grounds. It was actually impeccable timing because just as they reached the outer wall of the fortress, a beeping sound came from the cellular phone in Harry's robes.

"Harry, I just spoke to Charlie," Arthur Weasely's voice was on the other end when the auror picked up the device, "He is currently contacting a co-worker whom he says would know where to point you in your search."

"That's great, Mr. Weasely, thank you," Harry replied. "Do you know if the Minister is about?"

"I was actually going to speak to you about that next," the elder wizard informed. "He requested me not long after the two of you left. It appears he feels that Oliver should not be kept, but told me that he would not order his release until he had a word with you. The sooner, the better."

"I see," the auror thought, "Alright, I guess we'll be heading there first, before we go to Romania. Perhaps Charlie will have gotten in touch with his friend by the time we're through with Minister Shackelbolt."

"Yes, that sounds like the best route," Arthur agreed. "I'll see you boys later then."

"Right. Bye," Harry said and immediately ended the call.

"What does the Minister want to see us about?" Ron asked as he watched his partner slide the phone back into his pocket.

"I'm not sure," he answered, "Something to do with releasing Oliver."

"Well," the redhead paused, "That was quick. I agree, I mean, with letting the guy go. It's just I didn't expect him to, so readily."

All Harry gave as response was a nod of affirmation and then the two finished walking a safe distance from the outer barrier of Durmstrang Institute where they disapparated back near the entrance of the Ministry for Magic. The aurors had to admit that with all the magical travel they had been doing lately, namely apparation across such distances, they were beginning to feel worn from the activity. The use of magic did take its own toll on the body. Nonetheless, they were up for it, being dedicated to their cause.

Within the walls of the Ministry once more, Harry sensed that something was off. He had become used the the curiosity many had regarding his and Ron's work handling the investigation of dark wizardry. It was only natural that folk should wish to keep themselves informed about the dangers around them. Fortunately, there had not been any large manners of dubious activity since the fall of the dark lord Voldemort so the typical citizen kept their nose in their own business, so to speak. However, now, walking through the halls of the hidden building, Harry felt eyes upon them. Not of mal-intent, but rather concern.

Ron apparently had felt it as well for the moment they were alone inside one of the lifts, he brought it up, "Do people seem to be staring to you, mate?"

His partner nodded again, "Yes...something's up. Probably what Shackelbolt wishes to speak with us about."

Soon, the two young wizards found themselves at the ornate door of the Minister for Magic's office, using the usual command to request entry. When it was granted to them, they stepped inside the room to see they were not the only guests. Seated on the closest side of the desk therein, sat Draco Malfoy, his mother Narcissa, and Astoria Greengrass, another pure-blood classmate from House Hufflepuff. She had been great friends with Cedric Diggory, even having been written into his will, so it was a bit of a shock to many when learning of her romantic connections with Draco. What was worse in this instance, was that she was also a junior reporter for the Daily Prophet. A very ambitious one too. That could account for the attention the aurors had received on the return...

The ex-deatheater turned his head only slightly enough so that it showed he was aware of who had entered. Both witches, though, remained focused forward upon the Minister who sat straight in his chair, expression reserved as he gazed up at the newcomers. The aurors finished their way in and stopped a comfortable pace behind those who were seated before them. After the door had closed shut, the Minister spoke.

"The Malfoys...and Ms. Greengrass," he politely added, "Were informed of the recent arrest of Oliver Smith," he began carefully, raising a knowing eyebrow to the standing wizards who instantly recognized that the family had been told by a contact and not by Ministry or media procedure. "And requested to know his part in Lucius Malfoy's case."

The Minister paused, causing Harry to blink awkwardly as he tried to decide if he was supposed to answer this inquiry or not. Surely Shackelbolt would not put the auror on the spot like that, though Harry wondered as the man's eyes laid heavy upon them. Thankfully, however, he continued.

"I let them know that Mr. Smith was arrested solely for aiding in our suspect, Gerald Davis' escape, unknowing that his friend had to do with the murder, as per his most recent confession and turning himself in. He is not considered to be involved."

He lifted the same brow to be sure the aurors were following along. They were. The part of the story where Malfoy and his goons interfered was left out. It was just as well as it was their intent to have the family's cooperation. A different Minister might have used the scenario to their advantage by extending gratitude for the assistance in Gerald's attempted arrest, but Shackelbolt wasn't quite that willing to grovel. Even to the still powerful clan and even to capture a dark wizard.

"Have you been able to locate my father's murderer?" Draco asked then, turning to better face his old classmates.

"We have a lead," Harry glossed over, "We were heading to speak with someone regarding it after we talked with the Minister."

"And where is this lead of yours? Here in London?" Astoria spoke up then, halfway looking at Harry as she worked to keep an eye on the Minister as well.

The lead auror couldn't help but glance nervously at his boss, who, from the other side of the desk, gave a small nod. "Romania," Harry answered.

"Then Draco should accompany you," Narcissa turned a smile to the aurors. "We also know someone in the country who could lend an experienced eye toward any...unpleasantries that go on there."

Another glance at Minister Shackelbolt was met with an slight roll of the eyes, but also a second nod of approval.

"That would be helpful," the auror smiled back, "Thank you."

"Very well," the Minister rose. "Mr. Malfoy, why don't you escort the ladies home while misters Potter and Weaseley fill out a few pieces of paper work. They will meet you in their office say...in an hour's time."

The three other wizards stood as well. Narcissa and Astoria both thanked the Minister for his time and began sliding past the aurors on their way out. The young Malfoy hesitated, seemingly wanting to say something further, yet in the end decided against it and simply escorted his family out. Once they were gone and the office was closed, Ron immediately questioned Shackelbolt.

"Astoria Greengrass? A reporter?" he exclaimed, "What has she told people?"

"Calm down, Mr. Weaseley," the Minister ordered and the redheaded swallowed, trying to obey. "All that is known is Oliver's arrest in relation to Gerald and that there may be a connection to Lucius' untimely death. And by 'known,' I mean rumored. Ms. Greengrass may be a journalist, but her presence here, I'm sure, was merely a tactic to ensure the family's involvement." Shackelbolt sat back down and leaned back in his chair, hand reaching his chin in thought. "Though their verbal argument was the lack of a proper investigating team at this time. I can't say I disagree either. As well suited as you may be, there are still only two of you."

"Well, we do have Hermione and-" Ron started, but abruptly stopped when the older wizard waived a hand in his direction.

"And now you have Draco. Try to get along. He is more capable than the child you once knew and, given the freedom to fight for the side he wishes, I feel you will find him a good ally," the man hummed.

"Sir, why did you want to speak to us before releasing Oliver?" Harry asked.

"I want him on...house arrest, I believe is what the muggles say," he replied.


	41. Chapter 39: Romania

After speaking with the Minister, the aurors visited the jail where Oliver was being kept. Shackelbolt had already set forth for those tending the cells that he was to be released. Harry and Ron were simply to see to it and accompany him to his brother's home. The lead auror had informed Stephen of Oliver's arrest out of courtesy, unintentionally prompting the man to contact the Minister, pleading his brother's case and assuring him that they would both comply with _anything_ needed. He included it to mean the extraction of memories and use of veritaserum: the truth serum.

Shackelbolt had not made his decision based solely upon Stephen's cry, yet he did tell him that should Oliver agree to these terms, he'd issue his dismissal from their custody to the senior Mr. Smith. The Minister left it to the aurors to receive this agreement and at their meeting with the misled wizard, he reluctantly confirmed the contract.

Harry informed Oliver that until further notice, he would be expected to stay within the perimeter of Stephen's property. The trace would be temporarily placed back upon him though the exact spell was slightly different as it would show the aurors his location twenty-four/seven with a second charm to alert them if he had moved beyond the protected vicinity. They were calling it the 'dog collar' charm. The wizard sighed, obviously hating the situation, but he agreed to this as well.

Stephen thanked the aurors when they arrived, taking his brother inside with a sad glance back at them before closing the door. Oliver had remained silent since the spell had been put on him and his escorts did nothing to push him, understanding he had quite a lot on his mind and his heart. They did, however, wonder how Mary was treating these events. She certainly didn't appear the kind to stay quiet or let go the fact that she had been right about Gerald.

Once all this was taken care of, Harry and Ron returned to their office to find Draco waiting for them. The ex-deatheater was propped against a desk with his arms crossed and raised an eyebrow at the aurors when they entered. He couldn't have been there for long, though, because it was only a quarter past the set meeting time. Surprisingly, he didn't address the issue, even when he was given no apology. Harry's only response to his presence was to say he needed talk to talk to Arthur before they departed.

Draco had stepped away from the desk so that the lead auror could place the papers he had brought from the jail on it. Malfoy did so without word and simply waited as Harry made the call to his father-in-law. The elder wizard said that Charlie had not gotten word from his coworker, but expected the aurors any moment. He told him that he should expect Draco as well, causing the wizard to groan his disapproval, although he didn't antagonize the matter by speaking on it.

Then, the trio started their journey. When readying to apparate to the London airport, the Slytherin finally spoke, "I am not flying in a plane."

"It's efficient," Harry replied plainly, trying to be civil.

"It's disconcerting and unnecessary," Draco retorted. "We can fly ourselves."

The aurors were shocked not to hear insults toward muggles or even to them as part of his reasoning behind refusing to take the plane. They were aware he wasn't the evil person he tried so desperately to be during their school years, yet to see the change was odd.

"We don't know where we're going," Ron argued. It was more difficult for him to be kind, remembering that however unintentional it had been, in Draco's quest to assassinate Dumbledore, he had poisoned and almost killed Ron instead.

"Don't be stupid, Weaseley," Draco rolled his eyes and turned away, "Gather your brooms and come with me to Malfoy Manor. We'll leave from there."

"You're not the leader-" the redhead stepped up, growling, but was cut short by his partner's hand on his chest.

"Alright," Harry said in the white-head's direction before speaking to Ron under his breath, "Be nice."

The other auror took in a deep breath, shook his head, and walked away, "My house then," he said, "Yours is still there after our last match with Neville and the others."

"Right," Harry nodded.

Draco was the first to dissapparate, followed by Ron and then Harry in rapid succession. The aurors stopped briefly to explain what was going on to their wives. Ron suggested that they come along, yet Harry voted against the idea, saying they shouldn't take extra people until they decided on a plan of action. At present, this was only a trip to learn, not an attack or a trek into dangerous territory.

Ron countered this argument, steadily growing aggravated at the current standings, and it was left for Ginny to step in and calm him. Hermione was the one to come up with the solution that they would fly with the boys to Charlie's house, where they'd wait should they be called upon. It would save time if their need arose. Having always been the go-to when logic was required, her idea was agreed upon. The four got their broomsticks and apparated outside of Malfoy Manor.

"I know almost every deatheater was killed or imprisoned...and Lucius is dead...technically..." Ginny breathed as the group strolled up to the front doors, "But this place still frightens me."

Hermione nodded, "I know the feeling..."

"It's alright," Ron clutched his wife's hand reassuringly as they reached the entrance and pounded, asking to be let inside.

The door soon creaked open and they carefully crossed the threshold, each couple close together. Within the home, it was empty, a feeling deepened by the echo of the door slamming shut behind them. And there was no sign of their host.

"Draco?" Harry called, his voice booming in the large foyer.

Instantly, the young Malfoy showed at the top of the staircase, broom in hand, doubling down toward his guests. He reached the bottom floor quickly, placing his old classmates in his sights, but their attention was no longer on him. Behind, the late Lucius had misted into view about halfway up the steps. Just as his son opened his mouth to talk, he beat him to it, speaking strongly to his heir even though the words might not be understood.

"Kane afton ton bastarcho no plirosei, Draco."

The younger wizard twisted to look at his father, staring in desperate hopes to know what had been said to him. "Den... Den to k-kano..." he stuttered.

"Draco," Hermione spoke up in awe, "Have you been trying to learn Greek?"

Shooting a hateful expression at the witch, Draco searched unsuccessfully for how to respond, unwilling to admit to the softness in him that she had suggested with her tone. Fortunately for him, Hermione gave an out. She hadn't been learning the language, but had purchased an electronic translator. Not a cheap muggle item in those days, yet she judged that it would come in handy. Her good memory along with her brief brushup on Greek allowed her to enter into the device an approximation of what had been said. She bit her lip at the displayed translation, but spoke it aloud even so.

"He said... 'Make that bastard pay..." the witch then glanced awkwardly from the Malfoys to her friends.

Draco once again looked at his father and gave him a promise, "He will pay... But first, I will make sure you are freed."

Sinister overtones and all, the moment was touching even if the Gryffindors couldn't fully comprehend the strange love. Especially that on Draco's end... In any case, they stood at the door patiently, politely doing their best to not make apparent notice of the scenario. Soon, Draco left his father and the stairs, marching toward the others and gesturing rudely for them to leave. They did, and he followed behind.

Outside, he took the lead, calling over his shoulder as he mounted the Firebolt he carried, "I have the route. Just keep with me."

Harry could sense Ron's anger returning, but Draco was in the sky and the rest were ignoring the redhead and keeping with Malfoy's instruction before he could voice any complaint. Once everyone was airborne, the disillusionment charm was cast to keep them hidden. The moment it was done, Draco sped off, leaving them with no option except to chase.

It was already chilly and the added factors of height and wind increased that significantly. Twas why Ginny had suggested added layers to their attire as well as mittens, scarves, and hats. The journey was easily fifteen hundred miles...over a twenty hour trip via land. By broom, however, it could be decreased to an amount similar to if they had traveled by plane. It did have its cons though, such as exerting a certain extent of physical strain on the wizards and the danger of being directly in the open. Pros, however, included being able to stop at any point or change their path. Also, they didn't have to worry with other passengers. Harry couldn't imagine the frustration of being stuck on a flight with Draco, surrounded by muggles, and having to deal with his whining and attitude even though these weren't as bad as they once were.

Occasionally, their current leader would set a boost to jump ahead and the rest would follow suit. It was a good thing that each one of them had upgraded their brooms from Cleansweeps and Nimbus 2000s to the latest and most popular Nimbus 2001. It wasn't as fast as the Firebolt could be, but they managed to keep up just the same. Harry also rode a Firebolt like Draco, the same broom gifted to him by his godfather. Sirius had emptied his entire vault to afford it for his godson so Harry held onto it dearly as one of the few personal items left that connected him to his godfather.

It was a tiring flight and took them several hours to complete. There was very little dialogue as the winds made it difficult to hear each other as well as distract them from pressing forward with the silent and persistent Malfoy ahead of them. Ron, of course, found time to complain about his hunger, bringing suggestions from the others that they stop and rest, but Draco would hear none of it. So they continued. They could have interrupted the journey anyway except if they lost the Slytherin, they would have to discern where they were and how to get to Romania on their own, in addition to enduring the certain, petty wrath of the Malfoy family.

Sliding to a halt, Draco looked back at the other wizards a bit behind him until they caught up and stopped as well. "Welcome to Romania," he stated bluntly.


	42. Chapter 40: Taking Charge

The young wizards found their way safely to the ground in an area that, according to Malfoy, was magically populated. It kept them from having to worry about being seen with their broomsticks or needing further use of the disillusionment charm they had cast. The village they entered was somewhere between an average size and being large. Perhaps a handful of Godric's Hollows could be contained within it. It consisted entirely of old buildings, not unlike most other wizarding towns.

"Ron's got the address to his brother's place," Hermione spoke up as soon as everyone had dismounted.

Draco, who had put his attention away from the group and onto the lightly populated streets of the village, twisted around at the statement, "Brother? That's the source of your lead?"

The ex-deatheater seemed agitated at the information, like it gave the effort less validity. Ron was quick to speak up in their defense, taking a forceful march toward the white-haired man, "Charlie knows quite a few things about magical creatures, especially dealing with dangerous ones, I'll have you know."

"But Charlie isn't the lead," Harry broke in, once more keeping Ron's temper in check with a fierce glance, before turning his vision to Draco, "He's putting us in contact with someone who can possibly set us in the right direction for finding Gerald."

"I see," the Slytherin's voice didn't soften at all as he gazed back into the village as if looking for something. "I will find- find my acquaintance... He may have some useful information as well. We can meet you back here as soon as possible."

And without anything further, the young Malfoy strolled away, leaving the others to simply accept the terms. Even so, Harry had felt that the wizard's attitude had changed midway through speaking...about the time he fumbled over naming his friend...or 'acquaintance.' It was curious to the auror why he had had trouble with talking about his family's friend. Fully aware of the Malfoys though, and the way Narcissa had approached the topic, the man Draco set out to get was undoubtedly a shady individual.

"I wonder if he realizes that if this guy is some sort of criminal, that we'll have to arrest him," Ron mused, staring after their temporary ally.

" _If_ he is a criminal," Hermione clarified, "I doubt that any of us will know it, considering that the plan is to bring him around aurors."

"And it's not like Draco can hide the fact that the two of you are," Ginny pointed, "With how famous Harry is...and even you, too, Ron. Your face has become quite known as well."

It was a strange time to take his sister's words as a compliment, but Ron appeared to do just that. His lips slowly grew into a grin and he temporarily forgot about his aggravation with having to deal with Draco. Ginny, however, didn't let him have the glee for long for she, too, had started to become frustrated with their old classmate.

"After all the manipulation during the days of the last couple of Ministers," she continued, "I had hoped that Shackelbolt wouldn't allow people like the Malfoys to continue to have any sort of privilege when it comes to the Ministry's affairs."

Hermione sighed loudly, shutting her vision briefly as she switched from watching after Draco to focusing on her own friends, "Unfortunately, I don't think it's that simple. It's not that he's letting them run anything, but he realizes that they can help."

"Like Lucius giving up all of Voldemort's followers after the Battle of Hogwarts?" Ron asked rhetorically. "He's still an arrogant, evil son-"

"Was, Ron," Harry spoke up softly, causing the redhead to still, "He's dead, remember? Gerald killed him. And what's worse? He's somehow controlling his ghost...trapping him here."

The wizard was struck dumb and the witches joined him in fixating on the lead auror. The recollection had instantly put the girls in a solemn mood, yet Ron was having difficulty letting go of his aggressive stance.

Harry shook his head at his partner and added, "I don't like it either, but this is about the bigger picture." He tore his gaze from the others and looked once more down the road to see that Draco had finally disappeared. "Just be glad it's him and not his father." Grabbing firm hold of his broom and getting closer to Hermione, he slid close by Ron and looked him in the eye, "Besides, Draco had changed a lot since back then."

"Well, I wouldn't say a lot," the older witch picked up the conversation with a lighter tone as she took the Firebolt from Harry and began sliding it into her charmed purse, "But it seems he's started to realize that not everything about Lucius is admirable...some of the things he was taught."

"I honestly feel a little bad for him," Ginny agreed, also handing her broom over to her sister-in-law, "I mean, imagine what his upbringing was like. I feel like maybe a lot of the things he did...he really didn't want to."

"No, he didn't," Hermione whispered, shoving the last two brooms into her bag and giving it a small shake to make sure its contents were settled properly.

"Hermione?" Harry prompted inquisitively after she had gone silent for a moment.

Granger looked from her purse, emitting a small breath before sharing what was on her mind, "I thought about saying something earlier when the two of you mentioned Astoria with the Malfoys in Kingsley's office, but...it really didn't come up directly, so I didn't just bring it up. You see, I ran into her not too long ago. Right around Lucius' death, actually..." she paused, folding and unfolding her lips in consideration before finishing, "You know how strange we thought it was that she was with Draco?" She stopped momentarily to wait for affirming nods from her audience. "Well...he was forced to be a deatheater after his father failed to get Sybil Trelawney's prophecy. Marking Draco was to punish Lucius."

"Blimey," Ron finally sounded as if his anger had faded. "That's right fucked up, itn't it?"

"Astoria says that not only was poisoning you an accident, but he didn't even want to kill Dumbledore in the first place," Hermione added, "He was forced to...well, to try at least."

"Snape did it to save him from failing Voldemort as well.." Harry interjected, trailing off as his voice saddened with the remembrance of the events of his final year, "Dumbledore knew it was happening..."

"Come on, then," the other auror abruptly starting leading the way into the village, "This is sad and all, but we really should get a move on."

The others couldn't tell if he was avoiding feeling sorry for Malfoy or if he realized that his friend's mood had started becoming depressed and wanted to help. At any rate, he was right. They needed to get on with their venture and hopefully learn something to find out where Gerald was hiding. So onward through the town they went, taking a couple of turns onto side roads, and eventually coming to a residential area where they easily found the address on Ron's note.

The home wasn't much different in architectural style from the rest of the place. It was quite small: suitable for the bachelor who had chosen his career over focusing on any romantic attachments. Brick walls of a white color with varying degrees of wear and discoloration from age, dirty window panes, and a slightly crooked door which wasn't obvious what it had been made from. As the four approached the house on the stone pathway, the door swung open to reveal Charles Weasely, a tall and well-built man with midlength red hair, facial scars, and stern eyes. Upon seeing his family, he began to smile quite warmly.

"Ron! Harry!" he greeted excitedly with arms open, "Girls," he said more gently with a slight tilt of the head and a wink.

"Hey Charlie," Ron stepped forward first, giving his brother an awkward and quick hug.

"It's good to see you all, even though it is on business," the older man continued.

"It's great to see you too," Ginny beamed, jumping into his arms for a tight embrace.

"Come in, come in," Charlie moved to the side and gestured inside his home.

The party moved into the living area immediately on the other side of the threshold. Each walked around to the old plaid couch and chairs positioned around a fireplace almost too large for the building and politely waited for their host to close the door and enter as well. When Charlie took his seat, the other wizards joined him, placing their focus on the elder man, who had already begun speaking again.

"Please, help yourselves to some tea," he leaned forward and picked up a full cup from the table in the circle.

"Thank you," Harry gave as all of them gladly took the refreshments, "So no luck contacting your coworker?"

"Actually," Charlie lowered his tea into his lap, "I did reach her. She should be over any minute. I told her you were on your way."

"Oh, that's great," the auror replied.

"She?" Ginny grinned, stirring her drink, "Have you finally gotten a girlfriend?"

"Ahaha," the wizard laughed, "No, only a friend, I assure you. She's native to Romania. Her name is Ioana and she was the one that told me much of what I've already shared with you concerning vampires and the country's lore."

"That's-" Hermione was interrupted by a knock at the door behind them.

Charlie shot up from his chair, carefully placing his cup back down before leaving to answer it. The others watched as he let in an incredibly beautiful woman. She had pale skin, dark hair, and eyes that matched her hair. She was also fairly tall for a female, nearing the height of the man accompanying her, and looked to be around the same age. Hermione noticed that all the seats had been taken and pushed at her husband to get up and let the newcomer have his spot. It took the redhead a moment to realize what she was doing, but did end up getting out of his seat just as the dragon-keepers returned.

"Everyone, this is Ioana," Charlie smiled, then glanced over at his family members, "This is Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, my sister Ginny, and my brother Ron."

"It's nice to meet you," the woman gave, with a reserved expression. Her accent was reminiscent of Russian though there were subtle differences. "Charles speaks greatly of you all."

"It's nice to meet you as well," Harry stood, trying to offer his hand, but awkwardly fumbling when he remembered he still held his tea.

"Don't worry about that," Ioana chuckled, "Let's just sit and talk."

"Um, actually, I hate to be rude," Harry informed, "But we've brought someone else with us. They were meant to gather a friend and meet the two of you and Ron and I back in the village."

"Oh?" Ioana cocked her head to the side. "The Malfoy boy?"

There was an odd pause.

"Yes," Charlie cleared his throat. "Harry, do you know who Draco's friend is?"

The auror shook his head.

"He didn't say," Ron rolled his eyes.

"I see..." the older Weasely rubbed his chin.

"Perhaps I will know them," Ioana suggested, "I have lived here my entire life. If he's of any use, I may recognize."

"If he's not disguised..." Ron pouted.

"Tsk!" Ioana shuffled her hand at the younger wizard. "There's only so much you can hide. We shall see."

The woman appeared extremely confident in herself. She also came off very friendly, despite a lack of smiles or cheerful disposition.

"Ginny, Hermione, make yourself at home," Charlie told his sisters, "We'll be back as soon as possible."

The witches nodded and the new group of four were out the door and in town with little time and no fuss. On the trek back to where Draco had left his old classmates without any agreement, Harry spotted the ex-deatheater outside a tavern next to a man a bit taller than him with a head of short curly brown locks and skin of a medium shade. He wore the same scowl that Draco did yet somehow, on the older man, it came off as disturbing rather than angsty. His hazel eyes, void of light, also gave a chilling factor.

The two shady individuals had also seen the aurors and their counterparts coming, and watched until they were upon them. Only then, did either move, and it was the young Slytherin, "Let's speak inside, then," he stated frankly as he turned toward the door of the bar just feet between himself and the newcomers.

"I know a better place," Ioana spoke up, moving in a manner identical to Draco's, showing that she wasn't going to take no for an answer.

She walked past the wizard that had put a glare on her as well as his companion in deliberate steps, not looking at either of them. When Harry, Ron, and Charlie followed the witch without question, it left the ex-deatheater and his pleasant friend to go along or be left behind. So, reluctantly, the two joined the group.


	43. Chapter 41: An Unwelcome Distraction

"What is this place?" Ron asked when the castle came into view.

Ioana had brought them to a neighboring city, or rather the outskirts of one. She had told them beforehand that her family had several stories of encounters with vampires, though most were generations old. One, however, had happened within her grandfather's lifetime and was why they now stood outside a massive, crumbling structure that had been built in ancient times. It wasn't quite the size of Hogwarts School, but was equally impressive.

"It's abandoned now," she informed the curious wizards studying it, the aurors crept closer to take a better look, "But my grandfather used to work here. The wizard that owned it was fairly well-known in those days and his family had been vastly wealthy. When he inherited the castle and the last of their treasury upon his mother's death, there wasn't much left. Gradually, he fired all of his employees and left himself, vanishing completely."

"And this wizard," Harry turned back to look at the witch, "Was the vampire your grandfather claims he met?"

Ioana paused, giving him a blank look, then chuckled softly, "I understand your hesitation to believe the stories, Mr. Potter, but since you have nothing of your own to go on and _have_ seen these creatures yourself...perhaps you might offer better reception."

"Sorry, I didn't mean-" the auror tried.

"Yes, he was the last worker and had become close to Master Agorici," Ioana continued as if nothing had been said, "Luka Agorici was the man's name. One day, my grandfather showed up to the castle, but no-one was there. He came the next many days and still, the place remained empty. The only things which had gone missing were some clothes and a couple of personal items. The strangest thing that was discovered was Luka's wand, burned to ash, in the midst of a salt circle, along with a few traces of blood."

"If it was ash, how do you know it was his wand?" Harry inquired.

Ioana reached into the pocket of the jeans she wore and retrieved a bright red feather, "His wand core was a phoenix feather. They are immune to any fire not created by the bird's burning day. It was found with the wooden remains."

"Is that what made him say Luka was a vampire?" Charlie was the next to question.

"No," the witch put the feather away again, glancing over at Draco's friend, whom had been named as Austin, when she noticed he had seemed to take a particular interest in the story, "Almost a year after his disappearance, grandfather was leaving the pub when he spotted someone in the distance who looked familiar to him. Walking after the man, he decided to call out as he neared. The man stopped, turned, and grandfather saw that it was, indeed, Master Agorici. Yet...he was different. His features were more pronounced, his eyes darker... He stepped closer, addressing his old friend, asking what had happened, but was ignored. Luka twisted back around and kept on his way. Well, grandfather jumped after him and grabbed his shoulder. His old boss spun around, pushing him to the ground and hissed violently, showing enormous fangs. In grandfather's shock, he didn't keep up with the being's departure until once more, he was gone."

Charlie had been looking casually between his coworker and the castle as they all listened to the story. Draco had been stomping impatiently around the site, half-listening, if at all. Ron had been intent on the building as well, clearly somewhat spooked at the quiet and remote location. Harry had ended up following Ioana's eyes to Austin as he stared, unfazed by their gazes, and apparently entertained with the recollection her grandfather had relayed to her before his passing.

Ioana wasn't amused though, "And what do you have for us, friend?" she demanded of him.

The silent wizard slowly raised both eyebrows, face remaining void, "I am not your friend."

Everyone's attention was on him at this point and Ioana appeared to be readying for a sassy comeback when Draco spoke up, "Au-stin," he fumbled with addressing his ally once more though this instance was slightly less obvious. "Is there anything you can help with?"

The curly-headed wizard, who had been standing with arms crossed, tilted his head to the side to scan the castle, "This Agorici... I know a man by that name. He has said that he was born here, in Romania, but he traveled abroad for many years. That is where I met him. I moved to the country after he returned," he paused and set dead eyes back on Ioana, "I enjoy how few people there are in these parts of it."

The moment would have been menacing if he had shown any sort of inflection. The others were beginning to suspect that the wizard was actually incapable of emotion. He also seemed to not have concern for anything. He kept in his position, inactive, waiting or not waiting for someone else to speak. Malfoy was growing more impatient and was the one to set things forward.

"Take us to him, then," the ex-deatheater ordered, yet in a non-commanding manner.

Austin casually removed his vision from the witch and gave it to Draco, but didn't speak. Malfoy, in turn, returned the stare. The lock lasted several moments with neither sharing a word nor a motion. At last, Austin let his arms fall to his sides and began walking away.

"Go back to the city," he called over his shoulder, "I have a portkey that will take us near enough."

Draco looked away from the man just as he disapparated and, sighing in the direction of the others, left as well.

"I don't right trust following that guy anywhere," Ron admitted as the remaining four huddled together.

"Neither do I," Charlie agreed. "But what else would you do?"

Harry shrugged, "We need to get the girls and make sure we are all prepared for a trap."

"Would Draco lead you into an ambush?" Ioana asked. "Wouldn't he have more to lose not only by losing your help, but with bringing you to harm?"

"It would seem so...unless he didn't know that it was going to happen," the lead auror answered.

"It didn't look like he had his friend's loyalty," Ron mused.

"Yet, he has something to convince this man," Charlie added, "Whether that is some reward or threat...or bringing the demise of the famed aurors...we don't know."

"It's your call, boys," Ioana nodded, "But I am with you either way."

"As am I, of course," smiled the older Weaseley.

"Right," Harry breathed. "I think we should go forward."

In agreement, the wizards disapparated. The dragon-keepers immediately went to the city while the aurors met up with their wives, giving a rapid explanation before meeting up with the others. Once the group of eight was formed, there was a minor cry from Malfoy concerning the added members that was quickly overcome. Strangely enough, Austin said nothing on the matter and only remained the same stoic person he had presented thus far.

Draco's friend then led them to a magical shop that reminded the British wizards of Borgin and Burke's. Even the behaviour of the others scattered around was like that of the ill-to-do individuals that frequented Knockturn Alley. None of them questioned the foreigners as Austin showed them to a brick wall hidden near the back of the store and used a revelio spell to make it disassemble.

It opened into a short, bleak passageway that ended in a small room, in the center of which was a pedestal holding a dusty book. Draco gave his companion an odd look, apparently hesitant to use the portal as well.

"Just grab on quickly, if you're going with me," Austin stated flatly, taking hold of the book.

The others moved forward nearly simultaneously and placed their hands too. Surprisingly, it was Malfoy who was last to join in. Seconds after all had touched the portkey, they all began spinning in a magical inter-space as the lighting and colors around them changed. Finally, they saw the first wizard let go so they followed suit, finding themselves floating to a grassy hill below.

The aurors, their wives, and the dragon-keepers instantly took defensive stances with wands drawn. Thankfully, their suspicions had been wrong...at least for then. They stood, circling the hill, seeing that they were hundreds of meters from a forest on two sides, more hills on a third, and in the final direction, there appeared to be nothing for miles. Draco, though not armed, had his hand carefully grasping inside his robes...most likely at his weapon. When all of them eased, an unamused yet not surprised Austin pointed in the direction of the nothingness.

"I'll assume you won't trust apparatimg with me," he observed plainly. "Fly in that direction until you see a home. I will be waiting there." And instantly, he was gone.

"So," Ron had picked up the anger he left earlier, "Don't really know your friend well, do you?" he growled at Malfoy, having noticed his uneasiness.

"He's not-" Draco barked, cutting himself off and changing his words, "Let's just go."

The white-haired man opened his robe, retrieved his wand, and made use of the 'accio' spell to bring his Firebolt out of its hiding place. He had apparently cast the charm Hermione had on her purse onto one of his robe pockets. He immediately mounted and sped away.

Sighing at her husband, Hermione yanked his broom from her bag and shoved it into him, moving onto the others. "Harry, you and Ginny can ride together. So will Ron and I. Charlie," she turned to her brother-in-law and handed him her own broom, then turned to Ioana to let her have Harry's.

The group was soon in the air, chasing after the Slytherin, but only caught up to him minutes before reaching their destination. 'House' may have been an underwhelming term for the building they came upon after probably a couple dozen miles. It was larger than Malfoy Manor and not quite as huge as Agorici's castle though it was similar in design. There was a lone tree in the front of it where Austin leaned, hands in pockets and eyes to the sky.

When everyone had landed, the man approached them, "Vasile will only speak to the Weasely men and Potter."

Draco scoffed, "And to me?"

"Did I stutter?" Austin glared at the young Malfoy.

The Slytherin was taken aback, yet did something the old him would have never done...accepted the answer and stepped back, "I'll wait with the girls then," he shook his head at the man and then glanced at Harry.

Charlie handed the broomstick he had ridden to Ioana and joined Harry and Ron in following after Austin, who had already started walking to the manor's entrance. The enormous double doors creaked open the moment the first foot hit the concrete at its base. All three family members grasped their wands at their sides while strolling behind their guide.

Inside the residence, it was almost pitch black. Every window was covered with thick, enveloping drapes. The interior of the structure was formed from white stone. There was a staircase in the middle that led up to a balcony with halls that led further into the home. On the first floor, to either side of the stairs, were tall, open rooms with corridors just as above.

When all were well inside, the entrance slammed close again on its own, causing the darkness to increase to a degree that made Harry lift his wand to cast luminos. However, as he opened his lips, lamps around the two rooms lit up. They brightened the area enough to let each form and face be seen, but it was still quite dim.

"I apologize for that," a voice boomed from above, "Such an old building and I've never managed to update the light fixtures."

All four wizards looked up to the balcony where it had sounded. Standing there, slowly descending the stairs, was a towering, yet slender man of light complexion and short brown hair. He smiled politely as he neared the group, his hands creating a pyramid pattern in front of his legs as he walked.

"Thank you, Mr. Agorici, for seeing us," Harry nodded graciously.

"Yes, my friend here tells me you're interested in vampires?" Vasile peered over to Austin, but his expression did not seem kind.

"It sounds weird to say, I know," Harry offered.

"No, I don't think it is at all," the tall man stopped moving and his smile vanished.

Suddenly, the lead auror felt a foreboding energy in the air. The others must have as well, because Harry wasn't the only one who shifted his weight. Ron swallowed hard, making discomforted steps away from their host. Charlie cautiously twisted his neck to read Harry's face as the auror continued to stare at Vasile, but with a inquisitively furrowed brow. Something of the man was familiar, yet...young Potter knew he had never seen him before. He looked strangely like...

"Sir? Forgive me, but...why would you only see us?" Charlie asked, interrupting Harry's thoughts.

"Oh, well," Vasile's tone became sly as he carefully spun in his place and took three deliberate steps back upward before turning around again. "I felt you three would understand the best." He was eerily still again.

"Understand what?" Ron's words came shakily.

The Weaselys and Harry let their eyes dart from the creepy man, to each other, and over to Austin, who, though remaining indifferent, seemed to display the first hint of emotion...confusion. Focus was easily returned to the host as he spoke again.

"This," Vasile's voice turned into a hiss as his grin widened to show two, elongated and pointy teeth.

The four in front of him took defensive stances, each grabbing their wand, even Austin. Agorici possessed speed too great to be caught at such a short distance. When his form flashed in movement, the aurors and the dragon-keeper all thought it would be to attack them. Shockingly, it was not. It was Draco's shady friend that the vampire reappeared behind, forcefully throwing his fangs into the wizard's neck and making him drop his weapon.

Charlie, having been the closest to Austin, yelled 'stupefy' over the man's shoulder at Vasile, who instantly flashed away to dodge the blow, dropping his victim to the ground. They barely registered that the wizard screamed as their eyes each followed after the nearly invisible body as it ran back up the steps. The shout of pain did not go unnoticed by their allies outside, however, and within an instant, the three witches and Draco had burst inside, wands armed. Harry was the first to attempt chasing after the creature. Unfortunately, he was halted by a second attack. This one from Austin.

The wizard had jolted for the door amidst the bustle, but, stopped by the sudden entrance of the others, had ceased his escape and instead grabbed hold of Ginny. He backed himself away from the group, using the witch as a shield. His wand was pointed directly at her throat.

All focus was put on him, even Malfoy reluctantly aimed his wand at the man.

The only problem was...he was no longer Austin... Not that he had ever really been...

Standing in the corner of the room, holding Ginny Weasely for ransom...

"ROOKWOOD?!" Charlie screamed.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: For the unaware, at the Battle of Hogwarts, Fred Weasely was killed in an explosion thought to have been caused by Augustus Rookwood, an ex-ministry employee in the Department of Mysteries and a deatheater. He was stunned by Aberforth Dumbledore during the battle, but afterwards, his fate is unknown. Some theorized he was eventually captured and sent to Azkaban.**


	44. Chapter 42: Failure

"Let her go! You fucking let her go!" Ron growled angrily at the man holding his sister...the one who had killed his brother.

Augustus Rookwood didn't move from his position, obviously deciphering his best plan of action. The dark wizard had shown deadly tenacity at the Battle of Hogwarts, unhesitant to strike fatal blows to even the youngest of students, remaining without a hint a of remorse. And now, his grip was tightly around the youngest Weaseley, ready to kill her as well.

"Just leave her alone," Charlie tried to speak in a calm, soothing voice, but his attempt was fragile.

Harry, disconcerted by the sudden turn of events, stared at the scene, not knowing how to react and feeling completely bereft. The deatheater would have no qualms about murdering his wife even though the auror knew Rookwood only held her to assure his own freedom. At this point, they had already let a vampire who could have led them to Gerald, get away, yet there was no doubt in their minds at that instance that Rookwood was more dangerous.

"What do you want?" Harry breathed, afraid that waiting too long to act would prompt the man to kill and run.

The deatheater glinted at Potter, still quiet. Certainly, he felt that his desire was stupidly apparent. Harry's eyes didn't leave him. He was prepared to do anything to save his wife. Ginny had stayed unmoved the entire time, though her chest heaved greatly. To the auror's sides, his brothers were standing strong on the outside, but just below...they were shaking... Neither were prepared to lose another member of their family.

Harry dithered between offering to submit himself in exchange for her or ordering his companions to stand down and let Augustus leave if he let Ginny go. But neither was good. He couldn't place any trust that the dark wizard would keep any bargain and not simply kill the girl just because he was able...or even throw the killing curse at one of the other wizards once they had become unarmed. Attacking was the only option to ensure her safety. But with the way he was hiding behind her...it would be immensely difficult to take him down in one hit.

Ioana seemed to be the one person who held to stone. Even Draco was unsure of what was going on and what to do. The Romanian witch was the first to make any headway.

"We don't care about you, pup," she stated with as much confidence as ever, clearly having taken hints to know who the man was and the gravity of the current predicament, "Just let the girl go and we will leave you to deal with the friend that just betrayed you."

The gears in Rookwood's head seemed to shift rotation at the statement. Vasile's behaviour had been a shock to the man. Even now, he was putting together what had gone wrong...as were the others.

Vasile and Luka had been one in the same. It appeared that the deatheater had not been aware of the fact or perhaps, if he had, the vampire knew of the ordeal with Gerald and Rookwood had simply been oblivious to his involvement with it. In any case, the visit to Vasile's home had obviously been an unwelcome surprise. Yet, instead of simply turning the visitors away, he had chosen to reveal his ally's identity to the men who probably wanted him dead more than anyone else in the world. It was a harsh blow, but it had guaranteed the vampire had been able to flee. Was the creature that furious with Rookwood? Or had there been another motive in choosing such a course of action?

"Just let it alone," Draco's voice sounded odd coming from the aurors' side. "If they wanted to bother with you, they'd have done it already."

The ex-deatheater had kept his wand aimed at the wizard until he spoke. Then, he had lowered it to his side, making a large half circle with both arms in a gesture that said, 'come on, you're being ridiculous.' Oddly enough, Rookwood responded...

Shoving Ginny forward into Malfoy, he simultaneously set his wand on Ioana, whom he had judged to be the most clear-headed, "Crucio!"

Ioana's parry was instantaneous. She deflected the spell just as Draco caught Ginny and kept the two of them from falling. Charlie and Harry each managed to cast offensive spells at the departing enemy, but each shot missed by mere inches, striking the curtains behind where he had vanished.

Ioana stepped forward as if to be sure he was actually gone as the others placed focus on Ginny. The witch had fallen into the arms of the Slytherin who had taken her gently and helped her to her feet. The sight of his sister in an unintentional embrace with the man that had tricked them into working with his brother's murderer was too much for Ron.

The red-headed auror jolted toward the two, tearing Ginny away from Draco and shoving her back to her husband as he gripped the neck of the ex-deatheater's robes and dug the tip of his wand beneath the man's chin.

"The fuck is wrong with you?" he spat angrily at his captor, "How fucking dare you let that slime near us? How f-fucking DARE YOU!"

The wizard had lost all control, seething with with so much hatred, that it actually startled those around him.

"I didn't know!" Draco squeaked, having dropped his own weapon in the sudden rush.

"BULLSHIT!" Ron screamed, pressing his wand deeper into the other man's throat.

"Ron," Ginny breathed, breaking away from Harry and creeping closer to her brother to set a hand on his shoulder. "Calm down."

"No, I will not calm down!" he threw back, "It's bad enough that we had to deal with him in the first place, but now this? The fucking bastard deserves to fucking-" the redhead cut himself short, swallowing hard as he grasped Malfoy tighter...then he slowly eased from the man, giving one final push so forceful that Draco tumbled backward and nearly fell though he was caught by Ioana.

Ron spun around, clearly finding it hard to keep himself from pummeling the white-haried wizard. But he took his sister in a hug, unable to smile over her shoulder at the other auror and Charlie who were both gazing at him with concern.

Ioana, on the other hand pedaled in reverse, leaving the Slytherin to find his own feet. She stepped to the side, studying the unsettled family silently trying to relax their brother. "If you beat him, I would say nothing," she spoke, drawing everyone's attention as she glared down at the ex-deatheater who had just gotten to his knees and was pushing himself up the rest of the way.

Harry knew she meant to help and he also had no doubt she was a hundred percent serious. However, as much as he wanted to punish Draco himself, it wasn't what should be done despite the transparency of his denial of knowing he had brought along Augustus Rookwood. It was obvious then why he had kept fumbling when referring to his friend...why he had attempted to act like he wasn't truly associated with the man.

To add to the frustration, both the deatheater and the vampire had gotten away, leaving the investigators in a precarious position. Vasile, if involved with Gerald which was likely, would alert the others to the aurors bearing down on them. It would, in the worst case scenario, provoke the creatures into ensuring that they were not discovered...which meant some sort of attack. They had no idea how far a reach the dark beings had and therefore how capable they would be in locating those who knew about them. Unfortunately those people would include the entirety of the Weaseley family and the Malfoys as well as Ioana.

Ron had refused to glance back at his enemy, trying to keep his sanity in tact. His fury could still be felt by all in the room. Harry patted his partner's back before taking a deep breath and speaking.

"Draco," the auror said sternly, eyes dead set on who he addressed, "I don't believe your help is needed any longer."

The young Malfoy had regained himself and retrieved his wand. He stared blankly at the auror, eyes darting from the dark-haired wizard, across the others that had put him in their vision and back, "Harry, I-"

Harry held up a hand to silence him, "Just leave, Malfoy."

It was a strange sight to see the ex-deatheater saddened...even remorseful...but enough was enough. The aurors refused to be civil any more. Draco drew a long breath, turning to the side and making his way to the door. When he reached the exit, though, he paused, "I just want to free my father," he spoke softly, "For what it is...he was my family."

Draco didn't look for a response as he continued over the threshold and walked away. The company wasn't in the mind to have given him one anyway, although the despairing words from the wizard left them in a confused mess of anger, fear, sorrow...and compassion...


	45. Chapter 43: The Best Defense

"At least you're on the right track," Kingsley Shackelbolt spoke through the flames of Charlie's fireplace, where he had been summoned to discuss the dangerous turn in the Davis case, "Though I should certainly expect some manner of retaliation."

"Our thoughts as well," Harry agreed. "We're debating the best course of action now. We need to make sure everyone involved is protected."

"I will contact Saul Croaker and the Smiths myself," the Minister informed, "I trust the Malfoys to be aware of the situation, but I suppose it is my duty to speak with them as well," the man seemed to want to roll his eyes, but he resisted the urge. "I will leave you on that note, then. I understand the hardship with Rookwood's resurfacing. However, I expect each of you to remain focused on the task at hand," he raised a brow as his eyes scanned the aurors, their wives, and their brother, "Finding Gerald Davis and his captors...keeping everyone safe from attack is the priority here."

"With all due respect, Minister," Charlie responded, "I am not your employee, nor am I under your jurisdiction."

Shackelbolt paused, looking the dragon-keeper up and down, "That may be so, but you are lending yourself to the aurors' aid. If you wish to be an asset to the case, you'll follow the same rules."

The elder Weasely said nothing. He kept his gaze locked with the wizard in the fire, refusing to be told where his attention should be and yet, at the same time, understanding the Minister's point. If he were to seek the murderer above helping his brothers with their job, he may end up a liability rather than an assistant. Rookwood had been in hiding and it appeared that he hadn't been causing any problems, but Charlie couldn't just ignore that the deatheater was still around. Not after everything he had done...the pain he had caused his family specifically. It was difficult enough being around George in his sorrow over losing Fred... How could Charlie face him knowing he had let the twin's murderer slip away? Moreover, Ron was feeling the same way, but he was bound to obey the instructions. Charlie wouldn't let his younger brother put his career and livelihood on the line to find Rookwood either...

The Minister of Magic finally tore his vision away, aware that argument would do no good. Charlie would do what he would; Shackelbolt merely had to state his say. "Keep me updated immediately," he nodded at Harry, "We're in perilous waters now." The fires flashed with a sudden spurt of intensity and then died down, showing that the wizard's form was gone.

Harry twisted around, ignoring his boss' dialogue with Charlie, "I think we need to do more than be on the defensive...I think we should use this opportunity to strike back."

"An ambush is actually a good idea," Ioana smiled for the first time, clearly pleased by the auror's decision.

"It would be disappointing then, if they didn't plan on attacking us," Ginny mused. "Though it wouldn't seem smart for them to just let this go. I mean...unless Vasile is not part of the clan that kidnapped Gerald."

"It's possible," Hermione joined in, "We don't know how many there are, if they're all here in Romania, and if not, where the ones involved are. However..." she looked off to the side as a thought struck her, "I don't feel it's too likely that there are too many of them. They have to have rules to keep themselves safe, so surely they know that increasing their numbers also increases their likelihood of being discovered...which is definitely not something they want. So the probability that Vasile Agorici is connected to the others is quite high, I would say."

"That leaves us with figuring out how to fight them efficiently," the lead auror nodded. "They're extremely fast and strong, but they can't cast spells at us."

"They can control others through their bites, though," his wife reminded, "That also gives the chance that the vampires themselves wont attack us and that they'll send drones instead...possibly wizards who can use magic."

"Ioana," Hermione turned to the older witch, "Do you have any thoughts on this?"

"Hm... They would attack directly," she hummed, "With secrecy being threatened, I would think that they'd want to ensure the job is done correctly. Assuming vampiric bites _do_ work like the imperius curse as I've been led to believe, then there is room for those affected to prevail against it if they are wizards, and muggles would not do well in a fight against magical folk especially when such a fight is anticipated. As well, if said victims of the curse were identified, it could lead to more being learned about the vampires. No," the witch ended determinedly, "You should expect a direct attack."

"If that's the case," Harry picked up, "We can also expect it to happen during the night. There's been nothing that steered us to believe any of the creatures can withstand sunlight."

"Except Gerald," Ron, who had joined his oldest brother in silence since the Minister's presence, finally spoke. "What if Gerald is the one sent to kill us?"

Charlie breathed and chimed in, "Gerald is only one person. That doesn't seem efficient either. They may as well do nothing. Not with as many people presuming to be targeted."

"That's not to say he wouldn't be part of it," the red-headed auror countered.

"Maybe it does," his partner considered, "Gerald is with them to learn how to regain authority over his own body, right? Why would they risk sending in someone so clearly and dangerously out of control?"

"So we've all but deciphered that the vampires will be the ones to attack, during the night, without Gerald's aid or the aid of other humans," Charlie recapped. "Now, how are you going to defeat them?"

Harry stopped, stilled briefly in contemplation, "Sunlight is a certainty, but...we have to do more than just fight them. If we just kill or let them get away, we've made no progress. We _need_ to subdue them so we can arrest Gerald and bring him to justice."

"Setting traps for vampires," Hermione chuckled, "That's interesting..."

"If staying hidden is so important to them, what makes you think that if we did accomplish that, that the vampire would help us?" Ron interjected, "Wouldn't it be better to let one escape and track it? Maybe use the dog-collar charm again."

"That..." Harry considered, "It may be...but how would we place the trace on one of them without their knowledge? It's a fairly intricate spell that would take more than a simple shot. He would need to be still long enough for us to enchant him and during such a time, only an idiot wouldn't realize something is going on."

The group fell silent, each deep in thought, trying to come up with a solution to their problem.

"You could always force it to help," Ioana stated plainly after some time.

All eyes turned to her. Was she suggesting...?

"Not the imperius curse," she added quickly, understanding the way it had sounded, "I only meant that the Ministry for Magic does make allowances for the use of veritaserum on unwilling parties."

Harry let out an audible sigh, "That's true, though the more such a tactic is pushed for, the less faith in the Ministry people will have. At present, the only murder has been Lucius. Not really such an extreme case to warrant forcing the serum on somebody."

The woman shrugged her shoulders in obvious disagreement yet she didn't press the idea any further. Instead, she simply found the cup of tea she had prepared when they returned to the home and began sipping it, "How many people are you expecting to be targeted?"

"Well, you," Harry stumbled at first, seeing as the question had already been answered, "Everyone else in the room, Draco and maybe his mother and Astoria, my in-laws, George, and possibly the Smiths, Saul Croaker, and the Minister. Why?"

"Seems like a pretty big attack...and on a lot of Ministry employees too...the Minister himself, even..." Ioana spoke coyly before taking another sip of tea.

There was another brief quiet as the wizards looked at the female dragon keeper and then returned to their individual thoughts.

"Actually, she's right, Harry," Hermione nodded. " _If_ this is how it happens...that is serious enough to rightfully warrant use of the serum...especially if, heaven forbid, anyone else comes to harm."

"I agree," Charlie said softly, putting attention on his brother-in-law.

Harry exhaled, " _If_..." he repeated. "Hopefully we are wrong about the attack. I would much rather just never hear about any of this again... Let them remain hidden if there is no harm coming from it, but," he abruptly changed his depressive thought upon realizing something, "Vampires drink blood...that means they have a running body count. We just don't know what it is or who the victims are."

Another pause.

"Right," lead investigator Potter settled, "We'll go forward with this assault in mind. The goal is to keep everyone safe while trapping one of the creatures. Afterward, proof of the attempts on these lives and of the beings' feeding habits in addition to assisting a dark wizard, should all make the one we capture fair game."

Ioana grinned, feeling quite appreciated as she enjoyed her tea.

"This is our arsenal, as far as I can tell," Hermione informed, "Lumos solem to cast sunlight, Petrificus totalus will render them unable to move and stupefy should knock them unconscious."

"Then we should aim to use the last two," Harry said. "Lumos solem cast strongly enough may kill them so don't use it unless the others are not affective. Also, we will do best if there are more of us together. We should stick together until this is over with."

"Don't you think they'll think the same thing?" Ron asked, "If we do that, they might not attack at all."

"They might not at first," Charlie corrected, "But I think we've established that inaction is not an option for them."

"Even if these aren't the vampires that have Gerald," Ioana pointed, "I'm sure they won't take kindly to the idea of wizards poking around their feeding grounds or their home."

"We should talk to Dad," Charlie agreed. "There's room enough for us at the Burrow. Ioana, that means you too."

"Wait," Harry halted, "Ioana, do you have any family around?"

"Not here, no," she replied flatly, "Moldova, but we have not been in contact for many years."

"OK," Harry breathed, standing from his seat. "I suppose we should head out then. Ron and I will stop by the office and speak to the Minister again. We will meet all of you at the Burrow."

The others agreed in silent unison. Ginny jumped onto her husband, pulling him tightly against her and whispering in his ear, "Please be careful."

The auror clasped his arms around her, "You too. I love you. I don't know what I'd do if-"

He was cut short by the witch pulling away into a looser embrace and pressing her fingers against his lips, "I love you too. Everything will be alright."

Harry tried to take comfort in her sweet smile, but it was hard to ignore the looming danger. He managed a grin back before pulling her hand gently away and planting his lips forcefully onto hers. His wife pushed back and the two exchanged a quick yet passionate kiss.


	46. Chapter 44: Epiphany

"So what are we going to do about Rookwood?" Ron asked.

He and Harry had taken their pudding outside after everyone was finished with dinner. Their intention was to sit and relax, but instead, they had ended up anxiously peering through the tall grass of the fields surrounding the Burrow while discussing work.

It had been three days since the altercation with Vasile and there had been no attack or sign of intruders around any of the suspected targets. Ioana and Charlie would leave during the day hours to tend to their duties in Romania. Everyone else in the family likewise went about their work as usual there in London. Molly and Ginny were the only ones to stay at the elder Weasely residence and take care of home-maker matters. As Minister, Shackelbolt's place had many magical security measures and Saul Croaker refused to change his regular routine in order to stay out of the way of any perceived harm.

That left the Malfoys and the Smiths. Each family was visited frequently by the aurors or other wizarding officers even though the Malfoys had thus far angrily pushed away any extended help and the Smiths seemed confused about the ordeal in general. Apparently, something had been bugging Oliver... Why did the vampires let him go? He had at first been convinced that it was Brad's doing, but upon further retrospection, he wondered why they would heed any desire of the prior muggle. Oliver admitted to suspecting that it had, in fact, been Gerald's doing that he was freed as it was the singer who had what their captors wanted.

The aurors heard these thoughts from his brother, Stephen, and not from Oliver directly. Stephen relayed to the investigators his worry that in his denial, Oliver was once more starting to make excuses for his old friend's behaviour. It raised concern in their minds as well, but on a purely emotional level and not to do with any legalities. Oliver had already given permission for the truth serum and memory extraction to be used on him in Gerald's case, which was something impossible for him to go back on now.

The younger Smith, himself, had very few words for Harry and Ron. He was in such a deeply depressive state that even his sister-in-law, Mary, had been easy on him concerning his mistakes and having tried to warn him and his brother about Gerald. It seemed she realized that he had not only been robbed of the two people closest to him, he had also been sorely betrayed by both. It wasn't their job and it was probably ill-advised to interject themselves personally like that, but the aurors actually made soft attempts to console the wizard, offering vague stories of their own past during the wizarding wars they had been a part of. Each time, however, they ended up leaving with him in the same state as before.

Harry and Ron were having family trouble themselves anyway. The death of their own brother three years ago had shaken the entire Weasely-Potter household and now his murderer had shown himself alive and well. Out of all of them, George had been damaged the most. As much as the others didn't want him to know about their encounter with Rookwood, it was impossible to keep it from him...and he had not taken the news well, not that anyone had expected him to.

His first response was a blurt at the mention of the deatheater's name, asking if they had killed him. It was a strictly heated reaction and the looks on the faces around the room quickly made him change the wording to 'did you get him?' The unfortunate answer that they hadn't had then enraged George to run off in order to keep from accidentally directing his frustration at the ones who didn't deserve it. Of course, Arthur had called after him, but George only finished his escape by disapparating. It had already been discussed that they were all going to stay at the Burrow temporarily and the family became worried that the lost twin would refuse to return. Thankfully, he came back just as night fell though he ignored any company until the next afternoon once he had finished at the joke shop. Then he acted as if nothing had happened and it was just an ordinary day.

"I don't know," Harry confessed, poking his fork at the cake in his lap absentmindedly while gazing into the distance, "But we can't abandon our case for him."

Ron scoffed, "I suppose...though after today, I'm not sure that we have much of a case to work with right now."

"I know what you mean," the lead auror agreed, "It shouldn't have been a surprise that the portkey to Vasile's was done away with, though I honestly just figured that they'd abandon the place instead of protecting it to such an extent," he glanced down at his arm as he said it, to see the bandage covering the splinch injury he had received from his attempt to apparate back to the manor. "Maybe they don't see us as a threat at all."

The redhead shrugged and took a careful bite of dessert; his normally ravenous appetite had disappeared about the same time George had, "How long are we supposed to keep at it? We can't expect everyone to just live like this."

"No," his partner sighed, "I know, it's just-"

A soft rustle from behind made the wizards twist their heads, instinctively grabbing their wands.

"Calm down, you two," George laughed, approaching them with hands up, "It's just me."

The aurors eased, but didn't smile back as the newcomer dropped his arms again and took a spot on the log beside them. Both were still worried about their brother even though he had been doing well in acting like he wasn't bothered.

"What are you two doing anyway?" he asked.

"Trying to decide if we should keep with our vigil or just let everyone go back home," Harry answered, facing the inquirer next to him, "I'm afraid that the moment we decide to disperse, something will happen."

"I guess it's a chance you're always going to have to take," George kept a grin as he stared into the fields, "It's only been three nights. Don't they say patience is important?"

The twin's words were oddly calm, yet they didn't lessen the concern that the aurors carried regarding him. "Something like that," Harry kept his eyes upon the man, studying him closely.

"Well, I'd give it another night or two," George placed his brother-in-law in his vision, "In the end, you've done what you can."

He then smiled so warmly that Harry couldn't resist returning it, "You're probably right. Thanks."

The older Weasely chuckled and stood back up, "Of course I am. I'm also tired. G'night."

"Goodnight," the other two wizards mumbled awkwardly, watching him return indoors.

"The bloody hell was that about?" Ron wondered aloud once his brother was out of sight.

"I don't know...Maybe he's had some sort of epiphany," Harry suggested. "I just hope he is alright... Either way," the auror looked from the home to his partner, "We'll do that. Let's at least wait the week out."

Ron nodded an affirmation and once more, the young men were staring blankly before them. They didn't stay out too much longer afterward. If the attack did happen, everyone needed their rest even if the first night, it had been entirely too difficult to relax. The residence was set with invisible traps both of traditional magic and of the twins' own designs. It was a tedious chore to booby trap the property each night, yet was necessary to ensure their speedy enemies could not sneak in on them.

The charms and devices stretched from the beds to each room's door frame, down the stairs, across the ceilings and the base story, around each window and the outer perimeter of the building itself, as well as scattered about the yard and the fields beyond on every side. With such a threat, no one was of mind to take chances. So far, there had already been two false alarms the first night and a third on the second which included Ron tripping on the steps, Crookshanks triggering one during her nightly stroll of the property, and a third that appeared to be a simple malfunction.

Each had resulted in the family awakening with pounding hearts and armed wands yet none had been so jarring as the one that happened that night. Harry was certain not an hour had passed since his head hit the pillow when the obnoxious alarm from one of George's creations sounded. Once more, the auror jumped from bed with his weapon up and ready as he cautiously made his way to the doorway, an equally startled Ginny joining him in peering out.

Upon reaching the room's exit, they hadn't a moment to spare for thought as below in the den where the dragon keepers slept, came a scream from Ioana. The couple was met in the corridor on the stairs with Ron and Hermione and saw that Arthur and Molly were already before them and heading down toward the commotion.

As the family scurried downward, Charlie could be heard yelling 'stupefy,' immediately followed with 'petrificus totalus' from both him and Ioana at the same time. The eldest Weaseleys hit feet on the ground just as flashing forms flew up the stairs. One knocked Ginny against the railing before halting his run and grabbing onto Harry's robes. A second being barely escaped a spell cast from Hermione, then decided to move backward and attack Molly from behind.

Charlie's attention had been ripped from the creature that had lashed out at Ioana, who quickly recovered to defend herself against it and another being even though she had a shoulder torn and bleeding right at the base of her neck. Arthur instantly twisted and cast the petrifying curse at his wife's assailant. Much to the surprise, albeit the delight of the others, his spell successfully hit the vampire who fell to the floor, unable to move. But they couldn't rejoice yet.

Ron attempted to do the same thing to the creature that had taken hold of Harry, but it easily maneuvered out of the way the moment it heard his voice. Luckily Ginny had recovered from flailing off the side of the railing and pulled her husband out of the way of her brother's stray curse. Ron immediately realized his mistake, switching to the use of 'lumos solem' instead as one of the other creatures came upon him directly. The light hurt the vampire without killing it. This one had been a female and hissed violently as it leapt backward to escape the young wizard.

It was hard to keep track, but Harry had counted at least seven vampires. The Burrow had become an excited blur of the creatures darting around, occasionally stopping to lay their hands on the wizards, and in turn, the wizards jumping about to defend themselves and each other. For the first several minutes, Ioana had been the only one to get wounded. However, as the battle progressed, Ginny succumbed to a bite from one of their assailants.

The lead auror was able to take advantage of the vampire's foucs in chewing on his wife's neck to cast a powerful stupefy charm and render the creature unconscious. Afterward, his first instinct was to cry out, asking her if she was alright. Fortunately, she was, but the distraction allowed for a second bite on her father.

Both Hermione and Charlie tried to take down the enemy behind Arthur, but it flashed away just in time for them to fail. This time, it was _not_ stopping to check on the victim that was the group's downfall as the eldest Weasely turned his wand on his own family and began attacking. And he almost succeeded in setting his own daughter on fire...but Molly was too quick to act.

Not knowing which creature was controlling him and also not taking the chance of letting her husband harm his allies against his will, Molly Weasely struck the man with a stupefy charm just before being grabbed tightly herself by a pair of hands from behind. It was Charlie and he yanked her out of the way of another approaching vampire. Hermione cast a curse at that creature with impeccable timing. As it turned to ricochet off the wall and launch itself upon both mother and son, it dropped to the floor, petrified at Granger's hand.

With two vampires now completely incapable of action, the determination of the others only seemed to grow. As impossible as they thought it to be, the creatures' speed grew and this time, it was Ron and Hermione to be pounced. The female that clutched the witch, growled wildly, seeking to pierce the woman's neck. Ioana came to her aid with the sunlight charm, scaring the vampire into a state of confusion that led to her bounding around, unable to escape as the spell continued and fried the being's body completely...ash scattering in the air like a puff of smoke.

By this time, the male creature upon Ron had been able to throw claws at the redhead, ripping through his robes, and tearing into his chest to leave deep gashes across it. The pain was enough to cause him to drop his wand and falter, which led to the vampire's second attack, a bite. Yet just as he latched onto the wizard's skin, both Harry and Charlie had unleashed 'lumos solem.' Unfortunately, the attacker made off, but not without first becoming seriously scarred.

The amount of flashing forms within the house lessened as the numbers ticked down, yet the intensity of the fight had not faded. Ioana saved a gasping Ginny from falling victim once more and, in turn, Ginny saved Hermione. After several more minutes with no success on either side, the creatures stopped moving and could not be seen at all. Even so, the wizards were not ready to ease up. They stayed in their positions, wands aimed, eyes darting, minds ready.

After a few moments' silence...five vampires came out of hiding, a mix of male and female, some that hadn't yet been seen. Without hesitation, each one of them simultaneously threw themselves onto a wizard or witch. Harry had been the only one to manage in maneuvering out of his attacker's path.

Just as it flashed, ran, flashed, and again leapt for the auror, Harry, with as much power as he could muster, yelled, "LUMOS SOLEM!"

The spell held the same influence as when he had first cast his patronus in order to escape imminent death. The light expanded within the entire residence and flowed throughout every crevice, no doubt shining as brightly as a star in the night outside. When Harry felt himself beginning to collapse from over-exertion, he pushed once more before he gave in and fell to his knees.

There was ash all around them. Floating in the air...falling to the floor...the smell was overwhelming yet they couldn't be certain how many of the creatures had been slain with the light. Vision fading in and out, Harry scanned the room, seeing that everyone was no worse for wear. Ioana's shoulder was still bleeding as was Ron's chest. Arthur lay on the floor, alive, uninjured, but unconscious with Molly sitting beside him. Charlie, Ginny, and Hermione were breathing heavily and stepping about with wands half-raised waiting for any confirmation that they were free from further attack.

The two petrified vampires still lay on the floor...yet the sunlight spell had charred their bodies to a degree that ensured they were now dead. It was grim to witness, but grimmer to know that their plan had not succeeded.

Harry lost his last bit of strength and let himself fall to the floor on his side and roll over onto his back. Ginny was instantly kneeling next to him. He smiled at his wife, reaching up to caress her cheek to comfort them both...but suddenly...he noticed something and began visually searching the area around him again.

"Where's George?" he asked weakly.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Reminder that Crookshanks is Hermione's cat.**


	47. Chapter 45: Second Guess

"George? George!" Molly called nervously as she crept into the tall grass surrounding the Burrow.

The group had split in two following the discovery that the twin was not with them. Harry, though weak on his feet, refused to stay behind and had left the home with Molly, Ron, and, Ginny while Hermione, Ioana, and Charlie had remained with the still unconscious Arthur. The worst case scenarios were in their heads as they went looking for George. Had he been kidnapped or killed? And when had he broken away from the others?

Fortunately, it didn't take long for them to find him. Suddenly the boy showed himself, hopping out of the boggy land and into view of his mother, whose wand came pointed straight in his face.

"Blimey," the twin threw his hands up at the abrupt encounter.

"George!" the witch cried in relief, lowering her weapon and throwing her arms around her son. When she let up, she immediately began inspecting him, pulling his face this way and that, and tugging at his clothes.

"I'm fine," George pulled away in frustration, quickly giving a smile to make sure the motion wasn't taken harshly.

"What happened to you?" Ron asked, putting his wand away as well.

George seemed to be frazzled, like he was trying to regain his composure. He looked away from his mom, across Harry and Ginny and over to his blood brother. The wizard appeared dirty like he'd been rolling in the ground, and his clothes were messy, yet it looked like he wasn't physically harmed.

"I realized I hadn't set one of these contraptions up right," he glanced down at a broken device in his hand, one of his inventions meant to burst a powerful beam of light if triggered by motion, "And while I was double-checking everything, one of them went off behind me. I thought it was a malfunction until I heard something hiss."

"One of the vampires?" Ginny surmised.

The twin nodded, "Yeah, a couple of 'em."

"What happened?" Harry inquired.

"Well," he took a breath, "It disappeared when the light hit it and I was able to turn around in time to keep the other one from grabbing me." George looked down at the device again. It appeared to be entirely crushed as he thumbed it over like he was studying it. "These are quite effective..."

Harry lifted a concerned eyebrow, "Are you okay, mate?"

George's head shot up, "Yeah, yeah," he assured. "Just...just a little flustered, I guess. I mean...fucking vampires, ya know?"

"Yes, I'm still getting used to all this as well," Ginny admitted.

"So did you kill them then?" Ron asked.

"I think one of them ran off, but the other..." George lifted a fist and rapidly extended its fingers, "Poof!"

"Hm..." Harry exhaled, "Same luck on our end."

George's brow furrowed, "Luck?"

"We weren't able to catch one either," Ron clarified.

"Ah," the twin nodded.

"Everyone's safe though," Molly smiled, "That's what's most important. Now, let's get back to the others."

Mrs. Weaseley patted her older son's shoulder before spinning around and waving everyone on the way. But Harry hadn't moved. His eyes lingered on the twin and right before George passed him, he asked once more, "Are you sure you're alright?"

The wizard twisted his neck and stared at his brother, "I'm really fine." His voice sounded gruff at first, but softened into a laugh and a small grin with the auror's continued gaze. "Truly, mate, I am."

The others had halted as well and were watching the two in confusion.

"Are _you_ okay, Harry?" the redheaded auror asked pointedly.

The lead investigator cut his eyes over at his partner and then back to George, "Don't take this the wrong way, but...can you take your shirt off?"

The twin tilted his head to the side, "What?"

Ginny stepped closer, "You think that...he might have been bit?"

Harry nodded slowly, not taking his eyes from the suspect as he gripped his wand tightly at his side, being the only one that hadn't actually put their weapon away yet.

George exhaled loudly and rolled his eyes, "Sure." He then took hold of either side of the sweater he wore and pulled it over his head and arms before balling the fabric into one of his hands and slowly turning around to display his bare skin to the auror.

Harry looked him up and down carefully scanning each inch of the man's shoulders, back, chest, neck, and even his arms and stomach. Except for old scars that he had received during the Battle of Hogwarts and past mischief, his flesh was undamaged.

George stopped turning and looked at his brother-in-law again, "Good?"

Harry finally put his wand away and let his guard down, "Sorry."

"It's alright," the other wizard laughed. "It's fucking cold though," he instantly started clothing himself again and began walking toward the house.

The rest joined in, Harry bringing up the rear with his concerned wife making sure he kept up. He had forced his body to keep going despite it needing to rest after the intense spell he had recently cast. They all made it back inside safely, seeing that Arthur had been revived and was letting Hermione tend to the bite on his neck.

Ginny showed Harry to a chair which he gladly took yet kept his mind on business, "We need to check in with Oliver and Stephen immediately and also the Malfoys before we contact the Minister," he told Ron.

"You need to relax for a bit, mate," the other auror returned. "Hermione and I can go to Dunsfold and then see about Malfoy."

"Take Charlie with you," their father commanded. "The rest of us will stay together and we can go ahead and contact Shackelbolt from here."

Harry took a deep breath, "Alright. You guys need to go now."

Ron nodded at his oldest brother and then at his wife, who handed something over to Arthur before leaving his side and hurrying out the door with the two men.

"What is that?" George asked his dad as he set aside whatever it was he had taken from the witch.

"Hermione took a sample of my blood," he answered. "She thinks she was able to freeze traces of the leftover venom to preserve it for study. Croaker should be happy with that, huh?" Arthur ended his explanation with a hearty chuckle.

"Hopefully it's useful. I'm sure Hermione will want to investigate it herself too, though," Harry replied.

"No doubt," Ginny mused, "And we can know for certain she shares everything she discovers. Not that Professor Croaker is untrustworthy," she added rapidly, "Just-"

"His job is in keeping secrets," the eldest Weaseley finished for his daughter.

The witch nodded, then put her attention on her husband, "How are you feeling, hun?"

"A bit tired, but fine," he answered.

"And a might hungry, I'm sure," Molly had reappeared after leaving the den to work in the kitchen, "Here's some snacks for everyone."

The woman set a platter with various pastries and cookies onto the small table in the living area around which the others were already gathered. Arthur and Harry had been the only ones seated, but with the introduction of the goodies, Ginny took a cookie and sat on the floor, resting her head on her huband's lap. Likewise, Molly situated herself near Arthur. Ioana, whose own injuries had been patched during the search for George, gratefully came near, chose a tart, and sat upon the couch. The only person that didn't relax was the twin.

"Come on, now, dear," Molly waved eagerly at the standing wizard, "It's all alright."

"Yes," his dad joined in, "I think we're free from the blood-suckers for the time being."

George didn't move and he didn't meet anyone's gaze, "I'm not feeling well, is all. I think I'll go on home."

His mom rose from her seat instantly, "No, you should stay here with family," she pleaded worriedly, "If only for a little while."

"Humor your mother," Arthur insisted, taking his wife's hand and rubbing it. "Go upstairs and lie down if you need to, but stay for a bit longer."

The twin inhaled sharply and nodded his head, refusing to look at any of them. He kept his head down and strolled out of the room. The family he left behind waited patiently until his footsteps trudging up the stairs could no longer be heard. Harry was the first to speak.

"I don't mean to cause alarm," the auror said, "It's just that George is really worrying me."

"You already checked him for vampire bites," Ron whispered.

"No, it's nothing controlling him," the eldest Weasely informed solemnly, "He hasn't been right since Fred passed."

"That's true, but he seems to-" Harry started, cut short by his father-in-law.

"Have gotten much worse lately?" the older man finished. "We've noticed too. It's all the excitement. Excitement is a poor choice of words... The twins were always together. When things got bad, they fought and struggled with the other by their side. Since the last great war..." Arthur's gaze fell to his lap, "This has been the first real hardship. The threat of a new dark wizard and then the resurfacing of Fred's killer... I think it's too much for George. I just don't know how to help."

The wizard's voice seemed to crack with the confession. Molly put her arms around his shoulders and squeezed while planting a kiss on top of his hair. The man cleared his throat as he pulled his head up and looked off to the side, obviously trying not to show his upset. In turn, the rest of the company put their focus away from him and on their tea. Ioana ventured further in helping by changing the subject.

"Do you believe the Minister was attacked?"

Mr. Weaseley gladly took the out and answered, "I would think it unlikely though I suppose we should call for him now." He looked up at his wife, "Dear, can you?"

She smiled warmly, caressing the side of his face once before stepping away from him and sliding her wand out of its place, holding it toward the window near the home's entrance across from them, "Expecto patronum."

With the words, the tip of her wand collected wisps of white energy which grew brighter and stronger until they leapt from the weapon, creating the glowing form of a bear. The patronus walked in a circle before bounding away from its caster, through the glass, and on its way to the Minister for Magic.

Using the charm as a means of communication originally began with Albus Dumbledore and the Order of Phoenix. Obviously, no detailed conversation could be held this way such as could be done through owl. However, it was an instant message to another person that their time was desired as well as who was calling for it, without revealing location or having the possibility of being tampered with or received by the wrong individual. When Shackelbolt saw the bear, he would know the Weaseleys were trying to reach him and, if things were safe, would open the floo network to speak with them as per their prearranged agreement.

The room settled into a brief silence as they waited. If nothing was wrong, it shouldn't take long for them to receive a response. Had it not been for the matter of security, they would have simply opened up the network themselves. However, should there be an enemy on the other side, doing so would open them up for further attack.

The reply came later than expected, but not enough to warrant distress. When the fire finally came to life in the fireplace, the family was greeted to Shackelbolt fully emerging from the flames instead if simply sticking his head through to speak. In answer, each one of them stood, only to be waved backed down by the Minister who simply walked around the furniture and took a seat.

"I take it there was trouble tonight?" the man looked around the den, taking in the others' appearances and demeanor.

"Yes," Harry confirmed. "No one was seriously hurt. Ron has gone with Hermione and Charlie to check on the Smiths and the Malfoys."

"It was your intention to capture one of the creatures, wasn't it?" Shackelbolt continued.

"Unfortunately, we were unable," Arthur sighed. "Most of them ended up being killed as well."

"Hm. That is unfortunate," the Minister hummed.

"At the very least, Hermione was able to extract some venom," Ginny offered. "From the one that bit Dad."

"That is something," Shackelbolt was still humming, seemingly lost in his own thoughts, having started to stare blankly in front of him. "I wonder if the DNA of the vampire is in it."

"Sir?" Harry asked.

The lead wizard lifted his eyes and looked at the auror, "Depending on how old the creature was...perhaps we would be able to identify the wizard he used to be from it."

"I'm sure Croaker would have no trouble finding it if the venom contains it," the eldest Weaseley agreed. "You weren't attacked yourself, then?"

"No," Shackelbolt confirmed. "I have seen no sign of being bothered."

"I honestly figured as much," Arthur admitted. "Going after us is one thing, but to launch an attack on the Minister for Magic himself is on a whole other level."

Kingsley nodded and turned back to Harry, "What do you plan next?"

"I'm not sure," the auror confessed. "Most likely end up visiting Romania again...though I feel our case is getting thin.."

"I understand your frustration. I've been even wondering if-" the Minister was interrupted by the sudden return of Ron, Charlie, and Hermione. Everyone looked to them as they walked into the home and gathered around. Shackelbolt took no time in bringing them into the dialogue, "What word have you from the Smiths and Malfoys?"

"Well, Draco was as pleasant as usual. He was angry to be checked up on. Said they were all alright," Ron shook his head aggravated, "Stephen also said they had had no problems. Nothing appeared out of place on either account so we left them be."

"Then everything is settled for the time being," his boss nodded, raising from his seat, "Get some rest. You two can put in your reports in the morning," he added with a glance at the aurors as he strolled over to the fireplace once more.

"Sir," Harry called for the man's continued attention, "What was it you were wondering?"

"Hm? Oh, right," Shackelbolt remembered, "I was wondering if we were doing more harm than good by pursuing this matter. Nonetheless, we must do so at least for now."

The Minister gave a dismissing nod and departed as abruptly as he had come, quickly grabbing a handful of floo powder, throwing it onto the stone and then stepping into the fire. With him gone again, Ron turned his attention on his partner, "Reports tomorrow and then what?"

Harry sighed, "Speaking to Karkaroff first. I feel like there is something more he can offer to our investigation... We need to tell him about Rookwood. He apparently was unaware he knew a vampire. There may be more. The headmaster himself may know of something that he before hadn't suspected."

The red-headed auror nodded, "Sounds likely. I'm worried that Malfoy will start another fuss though. What without his dad being avenged and all."

"I don't know how to prevent that," Harry shrugged.

"All the two of you can do is work with what you have," Molly smiled, "There's always going to be someone causing more trouble than they're worth. Just focus on your present task."

"Besides," Arthur stepped in, "Draco isn't quite as bold as Lucius was and he's most prone to do what his mother will wish... And I feel that Narcissa would more probably seek to fix the situation herself rather than concern the Ministry, which, in the family's eyes, has already failed to rectify the situation."

"I agree," Ioana had already finished two tarts and had been quietly observing, "I do want to be of more help. I will poke around and see what I can come up with for you both."

"Thanks," the lead auror grinned, "We appreciate it."

"But for now, you all put work aside," Molly ordered, "There are still several hours of sleep that can be had and you all need it!"

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: I was unable to find anywhere it was written (by JK Rowling) what Molly Weaseley's patronus is. I decided on a bear since she is a very motherly character and bears are known for being the same way, fiercely protecting their young.**

 **On another note, I found out Arthur's patronus is a weasel. I guess that is appropriate for his surname, but I feel for his personality, it's not quite appropriate. Personally, I would have made Percy Weaseley's patronus a weasel instead haha. Though I don't even know if he can cast one.**


	48. Chapter 46: Too Much

"I am sorry to hear of your added troubles," Karkaroff offered plainly though the aurors assumed it was meant to be sincere. "Perhaps something we have here at the school can help you with your vampire problem."

Harry and Ron had been asked to return to Durmstrang Institute after speaking with the headmaster over the telephone. They had been maintaining the connection with Karkaroff rather poorly as per the progression of their case and the flimsy relationship had shown during their last encounter when he had came off resistant to cooperation. Upon hearing of the encounter with Augustus Rookwood as well as with the vampires and the rest of the goings on in more detail, the headmaster became just as helpful as had been hoped for.

"The Institute has information on vampires?" Harry asked as they followed Igor Karkaroff down the empty hall.

"Something like that," the headmaster replied, halting suddenly in front of a massive wooden door.

The door was easily twelve feet tall and eight wide. Carved into the darkly stained oak were many different creatures including mermaids, thestrals, and centaurs. Each appeared to be alive despite the fact that none of them were moving. A longer gaze revealed that it was the eyes that led to this effect as all shined and looked quite real. Upon the headmaster's word, one of Russian that the aurors didn't understand, many of the creatures blinked and two centaurs near the bottom trotted from their place. They took hold of the inner part of the door and pushed against it until it opened.

The sight was beautiful to see even for those raised in the magical world. Karkaroff immediately stepped inside, walking down the aisle that had been revealed to them. On either side, there were rows of books and scrolls that were seemingly endless. Harry realized that he had brought them to Durmstrang's library. Compared to that at Hogwarts, it was enormous and that in itself was a grand feat.

Karkaroff stopped after about five rows in and turned to his left, speaking in Russian once more. The aurors patiently waited behind him, wondering when they would be let in on what was going on. After several moments without any change in their standings, the headmaster spoke again, but this time in English, "Muggle study isn't one of high importance more so in my country than where you are from," he said, obviously talking to his guests, "However, when dealing with an elusive enemy, it is smart not to discredit anything completely...especially when that enemy is known to keep to muggles over wizards. You've already found this."

"Yes, sir," Harry agreed, eyes on the elder wizard who remained staring off into the distance. "It seems both the vampires and Gerald like to stay away from the magical community. We surmised that it must run a lesser risk to them to live that way."

Karkaroff nodded, but didn't have time to say anything else before a house elf appeared out of the air in front of him, carrying two large books that looked to weigh as much as the elf himself, "Tak neterpelivyy, tak neterpelivvy," the creature muttered to himself as he handed the headmaster the albums.

The elf seemed to have the same cherry disposition that Kreacher did, with a worn appearance to match. Headmaster Karkaroff surprisingly said nothing in return to the ramblings and instead took the books quietly and handed them over to Harry. The elf placed judgemental eyes upon the aurors and then glared at the ex-deatheater who took no notice of him, and then snapped his fingers and was gone once more.

Harry instantly turned his attention to the cumbersome novels he held, carefully giving one to Ron before opening his own. Not to his surprise, but certainly his dismay, the auror saw that the text was not in English, "We appreciate the help," he said awkwardly, "Though perhaps you have someone who could help us translate? We're not really certain of anyone who knows Russian."

The headmaster crossed his arms and lifted an eye, "It's in Romanian."

His reaction almost seemed to be in offense to the auror's mistake though Harry honestly had not realized there was a difference between the language of the two places, having assumed that Romania was part of Russia. He opened his mouth to apologize, closing it awkwardly, and then reopening it deciding to just ignore the faux pas, "Then perhaps we do know someone. Thank you. What is this exactly, though?"

"Those records account every bit of vampiric human lore from the beginning," he informed, "They connect which stories were the same from different places and people even when the accounts were unknown to the person reporting it. In that way, it helps to determine the most accurate details of such creatures through probability and logic. They also may hold accounts that the Ministry does not have on record since, as has been proven to you, it is from the nesting place of the species."

"That's fantastic," Ron exclaimed as he glimpsed over several pages of the book in his hand.

"Can we take these with us and return them to you later or should we-" the other auror continued talking to the headmaster, who interrupted him.

"They are copies. You're free to keep them as you wish," Karkaroff nodded.

"Thank you," Harry smiled, "Well, we will be on our way then, if there was nothing more you needed of us."

"No, I am fair," the headmaster answered, finally uncrossing his arms as he strolled by the aurors, "I will send you on your way."

The three left out the way they had come, traveling in silence down the halls and back to Karkaroff's office where he bid them well and allowed them to finish the trek to the outer walls of the Institute on their own. The more time the wizards spent with the ex-deatheater, the more they became accustomed to his demeanor and found the man less shady and off-putting though still as intimidating as ever.

Everyone had already returned to their regular routines which meant Charlie and Ioana were back in Romania. So they would have to send word to their new friend for help in translating the texts. Hermione could get the job done, of course, but it would be much faster, easier, and most exact if a native speaker were to do it. Only two days had passed since the family dispersed so it wasn't likely Ioana had found anything else of use yet and perhaps something in the books from Durmstrang could set her on the right path.

Outside of that, the aurors didn't have much to occupy their time. All the red tape on past cases had been sorted out and there had been no new complaints. Well, at least not any that amounted to anything. Nothing had been heard of the Malfoys after Ron's visit to check up on them and the investigators had been dithering about whether to speak with them again or not. On one hand, they were supposed to keep them informed and on the other, there was the worry that aggravating them would prompt further unwanted action. As it stood, the Minister seemed to be counting it a blessing that the media had not yet caused a fuss on the Malfoy's doing about recent events.

Harry and Ron decided to take the afternoon hours upon returning to London to look in on George at the joke shop. They had been equally hesitant to bother the twin for fear of agitating his already depressed state, but they knew the best thing they could do for their brother was to make sure he was aware of the family he still had and how much they cared about him. So they made their way to Weaseleys' Wizard Wheezes.

The store stayed busy on many days with a steady stream of traffic on almost all others. Ever since refusing to close their doors under the distress of the last great wizarding war, the joke shop had gained great notoriety and respect from fellow wizards. The fact that they carried many incredible items was just a bonus. The twins had ended up hiring a couple of other hands around the store after its rise in popularity, but the brunt of the pleasant work and the business affairs remained with the twins themselves. Now that George was the only one left, it had been expected he would look for more help. However, he instead kept up with all of his and his brother's work. He claimed it was out of respect for not allowing anyone to take Fred's place, but his family felt that he did it so he could just lose himself in his work.

Inside the store, there was a mother looking at a display while trying to keep away the hands of the toddler she carried, and on the other side was a trio of students in their Hogwarts robes. Slytherins that appeared to be around their fourth year or so. The students put heavy stares on the aurors as they entered and began speaking hushedly to each other. Harry ignored them and kept walking. Not spotting the owner, he found the young employee who had been hired to clean up. It seemed that somebody had made a mess of the candy station.

"Is George about?" Harry asked.

"Oh, yah," the wizard scratched his head, "In his office though, I'll warn ya, he's not in a good mood today."

The aurors paused.

"How so?" Ron inquired.

"Well," the wizard glanced around nervously before leaning in close, "Between us..your brother is acting like he's lost his damn mind."

Harry opened his mouth to get the employee to clarify, but at that moment, George emerged from his office and into the main floor of the building. He, too, seemed like he was about to say something until he saw the aurors. He put his eyes on his brothers and took a deep breath before walking forward.

"George, we were free so we came by to-" Ron started as the twin reached them.

"I'm too busy, guys, I can't talk," the wizard waved them off, stopping and placing a stern yet troubled look on them.

"You're really beginning to worry everyone, mate," Harry refused to tip-toe around the situation anymore, "Maybe you should take a break from the shop for a bit. We know you're dealing with a lot right now especially with our case and all so why don't you just talk to us about it-"

"No!" George yelled suddenly, startling everyone in the room. Even the enchanted machines grew quiet. The twin jerked his head to the side violently, looking away from the aurors momentarily, then put them back in his vision, "You know, you're right. I need to get out of here. Torry," he shook his head toward the employee still standing nearby, "Close the shop. Now." And with that, George stormed by the aurors.

Before he could make it out the door, Torry called after him, "You want me to open back up in the morning, then?"

George halted at the door, taking deep, obvious breaths before turning his head to the side and answering, "No."

"George, wait!" Harry yelled after, but the twin continued charging out.

The aurors followed the wizard out the door just in time to see him glare at them, suddenly divert his eyes, and then disapparate.

"See what I mean?" Torry's voice came from behind them.

Harry and Ron turned back toward the shop to see he and the customers had all followed them out, witnessing the same thing. Even the Slytherin students appeared unnerved.

"Alright, I'm sorry everyone, but store is closed for today," Torry offered apologetically, "Please come back later."

The mother wore an expression of extreme concern as she obeyed and walked away from the shop. The Slytherins lingered momentarily, enthralled in the drama, until Torry finally aggressively shooed them on their way as well. Harry and Ron exchanged confused and distressed glances before they, too, left, after quickly deciding to alert Arthur to what had happened. They met up with the elder Weaseley as he and Hermione left the Ministry for the day.

"Charlie is going to come by to pick up those books for Ioana to work on," he said, at first ignoring the incident with George, "But he seems preoccupied."

"Why is everyone burying themselves in their career?" Hermione sighed. "They have to know it's not helping."

"I don't think Charlie is actually focused on his work," Arthur admitted. "I know my son and...I feel as if he's less concerned with your case and is instead deciphering a way to find Rookwood."

"I had a feeling he would by the way he talked," Harry agreed, "But I'd hoped he'd at least let us in. We all want to see justice for Fred."

Arthur nodded, "It's not his intention to hide it, I'm sure. He's only not the kind to speak of things prematurely."

"What are we going to do about George, then?" Ron asked, steering the subject back to the twin's abrupt departure.

The father exhaled sharply, "As much as it pains me to say it...I think we need to leave him alone for now. He knows we're here, but our continued reminder is just aggravating him. Let him have some time to cool off and get his head straight again."


	49. Chapter 47: Impatient

Arthur had been right about Charlie. After dropping by to pick up the books, he had informed his father that he was looking into records about his village as well as speaking to the locals about Rookwood through both his true identity and the one he had presented to the investigators. It was a relief to Harry that his brother wasn't taking any drastic actions and was including the family in his intentions. However well that may be, though, they had all been doubting if the eldest Weaseley had made the correct choice concerning George.

Four days had passed without any word from the twin. Visits to both his residence and the joke shop had come up empty, outside of the evening prior when Torry told Harry and Ginny that he had heard word from his boss. George had let the store remain closed since the day of his strange behavior, but instructed his employee to open it again on the third day. He had also said not to contact him as he would do this himself when he wished to. In the meantime, Torry and his fellow employee were meant to run the shop in his place. It had to be quite a lot to put on the wizards' shoulders since they weren't used to much more than grunt work.

It wasn't much, but at least it let the rest of the Weaseleys know that the twin was alright...or rather unharmed. It appeared that even though he'd been unaware of his father's suggestion that the twin be left alone, he had wanted it as well. It still left the family bereft yet somewhat hopeful that it was all the man needed and he would soon be back and better, if not completely his old self again.

It was at the end of that fourth day that the aurors received word from Ioana concerning her preliminary findings. She said that she'd been focusing on the texts, but had not yet held them against anything her family or anyone else she was in contact with knew. However, she felt it important to share what she discovered as she went along. Harry and Hermione were well aware of many of the myths concerning vampires that appeared in the cinema screen and muggle books. Even Arthur had come across some of these things in his studies of non-magical folk. Since, however, they were in works of fiction which did not even present themselves as anything else, they had been left to be such that: pretend tales for entertainment.

Ioana shared after briefly studying the albums from Durmstrang that many of those stories began as truth or at least with the likelihood of being true. The things that were of most interest to the investigators were ways of fighting vampires as well as finding them, so the witch focused on those topics. Sunlight had already been proven to be effective against the creatures, but the records went on to explain that the reason for it being was that vampires had become what they are by giving away their soul and therefore turning into dark beings which were hurt by more positive light energies. It was also said that the change in their physical appearance aided the intensity of sunlight to harm them due to their pale skin and heightened senses. Ioana had equated 'soul' to mean magic because everything that had been taught was that that was how wizards turned into vampires.

Other than that, things that were mentioned in fending them off included things with an overwhelming odor or otherwise overpowering to the physical senses such as loud noises. Garlic was said to have been used by many muggles for this end, but wizards who had reported encounters with the species told that the garlic did not work. Other things like onion were suggested yet not told to be useful either way. Another passage presumed that muggles had tried garlic since it was known to keep blood-sucking pests like mosquitoes away. This was never said to be tested either though there had been a minor report of extreme sound aggravating a vampire into fleeing.

Some muggles also stated that to fight vampires, religious or blessed artifacts were necessary. The wizarding accounts of this likewise shifted 'religious' and 'blessed' to mean magically endowed though once again, nothing had been proven or said to proven about these tactics. Harry had instantly wondered if there was a way to trap the power of a patronus inside an object. Such a spell would certainly work against the creatures as it had with the dementors and Gerald the demon. Holy water, could have even simply been a cast patronus without its corporal form. The white, wispy energy might have been mistaken as magical water to the muggle eye.

After that, everything to do with killing vampires concerned physical force. Decapitation, a stake through the heart, completely destroying the body of the creature and scattering it...or simply burying it away so that eventually, it dried up from starvation. It was strange that even the lack of answers helped to put everyone at ease. It seemed that as intimidating and ancient the vampires were, they weren't as powerful as they first appeared. Perhaps another reason behind staying largely within muggle society.

Ioana said that one of the books spoke of their assets as well. She hadn't yet dug too deeply into that area, but from what she could make out, there wasn't anything more than the family was already aware. Heightened senses, speed, and strength as well as their venom which could be used to control those weaker than them. The witch did take the time to point out that due to the probable ages of the immortal creatures, they had a vast store of knowledge and wealth. Both of which would benefit their ventures.

"I admit I was expecting something more grand," Harry told his wife as they lay down that night to sleep, "But it's actually quite nice to know that they aren't some overly powerful enemy."

"I suppose that makes sense, though," Ginny pursed her lips, "It's not pleasant to think that the only real ways to handle them is by killing them."

"Sometimes it just comes down to us or them," Harry mused, rolling over to his back and staring at the ceiling, "And we aren't the ones drinking blood."

"Maybe..." she thought, "I wonder if the books have anything on that? Their diet, that is."

The auror shrugged and turned back over to face his wife, "Probably. Why?"

"I just...it's curious," she confessed, placing her eyes on the man laying beside her, "We just don't know much about it and I wonder why they have to kill to stay alive and _if_ they actually do. For all we know, they have humans with them that they feed on regularly without needing to murder them."

"Maybe," Harry shrugged. "It would definitely be nice to come to an arrangement with them instead of hunting them and worrying about such a dark threat."

There was a small pause as the two just looked at each other, faces nearly touching before Ginny gave a small smile. She inched closer to her husband, moving onto her back and slouching down so that she could rest her head backwards against his bare chest, "I'm also still curious about Brad."

"Mm," Harry nodded, gently caressing the top of the witch's head with his chin as his arms came to rest around her sides, "If to become a vampire, a wizard has to give up their magic...how does a muggle become one? Perhaps he's just being controlled. He could have used his own magic to make it look like he had been changed."

"I guess," Ginny replied, "Oliver did say that Brad was incredibly strong when he choked him out. I suppose that could have been faked as well...on Brad's end, I mean."

Another brief silence.

"Have you heard from Oliver recently?" she continued.

Harry shook his head, "Not really. We do have to make a visit regularly, but he hasn't been the most talkative person, you know? He does appear to be in slightly better spirits. I just don't know if that's a good thing or not."

"Because of what his brother said?" his wife guessed.

"Yeah," the auror affirmed. "I just don't understand how with all that's happened, he can still question that Gerald is the bad guy here."

The witch took in a deep breath and flipped over on her stomach so that her head, still resting on Harry, was now facing him, "You have to try and see it from his perspective. That band was the first answer he had to his dream of becoming a musician. His first friends since he lost his parents. There were lies, sure, but they were close, nonetheless. From what I can tell, they all helped each other through a lot. It must be hard to think it was all insincere."

"It doesn't excuse it," Harry pointed.

"No, it doesn't. I'm just saying..." Ginny trailed off.

The wizard smiled, "I know. You're too sweet," he leaned in and kissed the woman's forehead, "Let's get some rest though. It's back to the grindstone first thing in the morning."

Ginny sat back up, put her arms around her husband, and placed her lips onto his. The two exchanged a delicate kiss before both got comfortable on either side of the bed and fell into slumber. The next day started as usual, the aurors met outside the Ministry at the regular time and made their way in together. However, their entrance did not go unnoticed as per routine. Instead, they were met with various stares and whispers. Just as the pair began to wonder what had happened, they saw a familiar, yet unwanted face emerging from one of the lifts...one that also immediately drew attention from those scattered around the main floor.

"Astoria?" Ron growled. "Now what has she done?"

"I would say to calm it," his partner answered, not looking at the redhead but gazing at the woman in the distance, "But I think you're right."

The two began quickly walking toward the witch. Just before she reached the first row of fireplaces, she spotted them and halted, "Good morning, gentlemen," she greeted them amiably although her face read anything except.

"Morning," Harry offered quickly, rushing to the point, "What are you up to?"

"I've just had word with the Minister," she answered, "It seems the people aren't too thrilled to have their aurors hiding known information concerning dark wizards amongst them."

"Hiding? Blimey, you should know better than that!" Ron exclaimed, "And I bet ya done told them about the business in Romania as well?"

"I'm not an idiot," Astoria raised an eyebrow, "Who is going to take this case seriously when we start mouthing about vampires and demons and other unproven beasts? The people know about Gerald Davis and Augustus Rookwood being at large...as they should."

Harry nodded his head angrily, not out of agreement, but in an attempt to keep himself cool. The added pressure of citizens looking to them for answers in these cases was not going to help matters at all. Seeing that her part was done, the witch continued on her way.

"I know you think you're helping Draco," the lead auror suddenly turned and called, causing her to stop, "But this isn't."

Spinning rapidly on her heels to face the wizards again, she stomped back, "Oh? Making sure every citizen has their eyes peeled for sign of his father's murderer? Yeah, I think that's helping." And once more, she huffed off, this time her trek to and through the flames of the floo network not disrupted.

"I guess it's time to see Shackelbolt then," Ron rolled his eyes.

What was typically a brief trip to the Minister's office, took far too long as so many wished to stop the aurors to comment on how poorly they had acted or the opposite in saying that they had their fellow Ministry employees' support. Some simply were curious and wanted to see if either of the wizards would speak to them more directly about their case. Each of these conversations ended the same way: with both aurors saying they were following protocol, thanking the others, and not revealing anything more than Astoria had said she had.

When they finally reached their destination, Shackelbolt was frustrated as well. He was just better skilled at hiding it, "You've run into Ms. Greengrass, I see."

The aurors nodded.

Minister Shackelbolt slid a copy of that morning's Daily Prophet across his desk to them and Harry responded by reading out loud the article it was flipped to:

 _"It has recently come to the attention of one of our trusted reporters that the Investigations Department currently run by two aurors, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasely, has neglected to inform citizens of the presence of not one, but two dangerous criminals. Upon the death of Lucius Malfoy, a suspect was identified in his murder and later determined to be true culprit._

 _"Where these details were revealed to the Malfoy family, they were not exposed to any other party. When the aurors failed to properly handle their task in bringing in the murderer, an American wizard by the name of Gerald Davis, the distraught family instead brought the case to the attention of Astoria Greengrass, reporter for the Daily Prophet, in hopes that justice will be done._

 _"During the dealings of the aurors' case, one Augustus Rookwood, another known dark wizard and deatheater was discovered to still be at large. On behalf of the Malfoy family, and for the safety of all wizards and witches, the Daily Prophet asks that any information pertaining to Gerald Davis, Augustus Rookwood, or the death of Lucius Malfoy, be brought forth so that we may keep our community safe and free from such evil doers."_

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm just going to say that I have a hate/love relationship with the media. I think a lot of reporters need to mind their damn business. Especially those that like to stick their nose into the private lives of celebrities and such. Even in legal cases, reporters can cause a lot of necessary strife. The countless times that people have been deemed guilty prematurely because of the media is ridiculous. On the other hand, however, I feel that reporters do a lot of good. In such an instance as in this story, I feel that the people should be aware when there is danger lurking about them and this danger has been definitively proven. Also, the media can be distorted to make people believe the things they want you to believe. #RantOver lol**


	50. Chapter 48: Break Free

"Well, he _did_ confess," Ron pointed to his agitated partner.

"How is it that you're the one trying to calm me down?" Harry returned.

"It seems the two of you switch who has the level head," Hermione laughed. "Besides, he's right."

"It could turn out to be a good thing," Ginny added. "Like Astoria said, there will be more people on the lookout now."

"Maybe, but you do realize the amount of reports we've gotten just today of 'suspicious activity?" the lead auror made air quotes with his fingers.

It was true, after leaving the Minister for Magic's office that morning, multiple calls and shows came in saying that this, that, and the other had been out of place. In addition, many had simply reached out to the aurors to complain, vent, or ask what they should be doing to properly protect themselves. Several parents had demanded extra security for their children, even though the cases had had no affiliation with Hogwarts or employees of the school.

It all ended with Harry, along with the one Shackelbolt already gave, issuing an official statement that there had been no threat to the general public nor any named individuals outside of the investigations department who had not been notified. It was also assured that everyone should go about their usual business until further notice and only first hand accounts of seeing either Gerald or Rookwood should warrant the aurors' attention as they worked around the clock to solve the problem.

The bustle had kept them at the Ministry past hours and both were extremely relieved when they could clock out at last. Their wives had already gone home for the day and were happy to see their overworked men though it was nearly nightfall. The evening since had consisted of attempts to relax the wizards and talk of things other than the case, but with the added stress and knowing that they had one brother who disappeared to deal with his grief while another searched for Fred's killer, it was impossible to do.

"It's an odd question, but something just struck me," Ginny broke an awkward silence that had settled in the den of the Weaseley-Granger residence. "This demon bit is pretty similar to the vampires. Do you think... I don't know. It's probably silly."

"Yeah, probably," Ron agreed absentmindedly, bringing judging glances from his wife, sister, and Harry.

"What is it?" the other auror grinned.

"I just wondered if perhaps Gerald needed anything like blood to survive too," she shrugged. "Just thinking about the people he's said to have killed. Even Lucius, I mean."

"I hadn't though about it," her husband mused. "I somehow don't think so. Yet perhaps it's more the thought I don't like the idea. If Lucius is a sort of feeding, the energy or what have you, that's worse than just drinking blood, I would say.. It would mean doing this is a regular thing for Gerald, which is not something we've seen."

"Logically speaking," Hermione picked up matter-of-factly, "It would just be his anger and lack of control. Perhaps his own version of revenge...of scaring others off. Besides, if he did have a similar diet, I would think the vampires would have caught onto him well before now," the witch stopped and stared blankly as she took a sip of tea, "Though I suppose it raises some more questions."

"Such as?" Harry prompted.

"What tipped them off? Was it just his move here? And if so, does that mean there aren't any of their species overseas?" Hermione spit-fired, "As well, there definitely are similarities in the creatures. Perhaps vampires are a sort of demon? If that's the case, it's likely they would be able to shed a lot of light on what Gerald is and what he's fully capable of."

"I don't think vampires like to 'shed light' on much, yah?" Ron stated plainly.

The other three paused and were looking at the red-headed boy again.

"Ronald, was that...a pun?" Hermione asked, appearing dumbfounded.

"Yah," a grin creeped slowly onto his face.

Harry was the first to burst into laughter, joined by his wife, and lastly by Hermione who simply smiled and shook her head while trying not to spill her drink. The pleasant turn in the day did not last but a matter of seconds as the cellular in the lead auror's pocket went off.

"Hello?" he answered, still chuckling.

"Harry, can you and Ron and-uh-and your wives meet me at the Burrow? It's important."

"George?" Harry's expression fell somber as did that of the others in the room when he spoke the name.

"Yeah, look it's important. Please. I'm heading there now," George's voice was shaky, like he was frightened.

"Of course, but are you okay?" the auror asked, his own heart rate picking up.

"Uh," there was an audible swallow and clear hesitation, "I'm-I'm fine. Please, just-just-"

"OK, mate we're leaving right now," Harry informed, standing from his seat.

 _Click._ There was no further response as the call ended from the other end.

"What's wrong with George?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his head, "I don't know, but something bad has happened. I can tell," the wizard immediately started walking to the fireplace.

"Where are we going? The Burrow?" Hermione surmised.

Harry nodded before continuing to throw the floo powder he had grabbed and stepping into the flames with his wife, who had nervously slipped her hand into his. The four were soon in the old Weaseley home, spotting Molly and Arthur sitting on the couch with George. He sat silently, head dropped and gazing at the floor as he rapidly bounced his knee up and down in an anxious motion.

Upon seeing the rest of her family come in, Molly reached out to place a caring hand on the distraught wizard's shoulder, only to have him jerk away and stand, stepping from the witch, "Please don't touch me," he whispered.

The two younger couples carefully strolled about the scene, almost forming a circle around the twin. All refused to sit, feeling the tension of the situation and not knowing what the hell was going on.

"Everyone's here, George," Arthur said calmly from his chair. "What is it you were wanting to tell us?"

The stressed wizard finally looked up, yet didn't place his vision on anyone. He just shook his head violently back and forth.

"It's okay, dear," his mother reached out again, quickly retreating though it pained her not to hold her child during such discomfort. "You can talk to us about anything."

The twin put a hand on his face as he gazed back at his mother, his eyes glossy with tears that then began rolling down his cheeks. He used that hand to wipe the moisture away before letting it fall to his side where it clutched the old brown pants he wore. "I'm so sorry," he was still whispering, "I'm so sorry."

"George, what happened?" Harry asked firmly yet soothingly, "It's okay...but we can't help if you don't tell us."

George cut his eyes to the auror, suddenly grabbing his wand and pulling it upward, prompting Arthur to jump from his seat as he joined the others in taking hold of their weapons as well.

But the twin didn't aim his wand at the family. Instead, he turned it upon himself, "I'm so sorry," he repeated,"I tried."

Energy began pooling around the tip of George's wand.

"George, stop!"

"What are you doing?"

"Don't!"

The cries came simultaneously as the family anticipated the depressed man harming himself...ending his grief...

But they were wrong.

"Revelio," George breathed as another tear streamed down.

The wizard fell to his knees and tossed his wand to Arthur's feet. He once more stared at the floor, obviously fighting the urge to hold his face and sob. The family watched, weapons still up, while their son and brother changed...his form slowly shifting from the man they held so dear...to one they had never seen.

The company stayed in that position, speechless, trying to formulate an appropriate response. The wizard that they thought up until a moment ago was George, gradually looked up at them, "I'm sorry. I tried," he said again, taking heavy breaths.

It was the father who first acted. In a fit of fury and sorrow, he lunged at the imposter, grabbing him by the neck of his sweater...no, his _son's_ sweater, and thrusting him upward against the wall behind them.

"Where the hell is my son? Who are you?" Arthur growled, giving the stranger another forceful shove.

"My name is Alan!" the man cried, holding his hands up in surrender, "Alan Jameson. Lacrima-the-the vampire! They put me here!"

Molly leaned down to pick up the wand he had thrown away, gingerly thumbing it. It belonged to George, "Where is my son?" her voice broke as she put a weak face onto her husband and the man that had fooled them. "Is my son-"

She couldn't finish. Ginny and Hermione were instantly by her side, holding her and offering comfort.

"I won't ask again," Arthur growled at the wizard, now taking his own wand and digging it into the man's neck.

"He's alive! As far as I am told, he's alive," Jameson choked out. "I don't know why they want him. I was only made to come here."

The man seemed sincere in the words and even more genuine in his remorse. Harry stepped by the witches, shooting a concerned look at them as he passed. Getting closer to Another and Alan, he lowered his wand. Ron had also approached, but kept himself armed.

"Were you being controlled by this Lacr-" the lead auror stumbled on the strange name.

"Lacrima," Alan swallowed, "Yes."

Harry carefully reached over Arthur and pushed George's sweater from the wizard's shoulder to reveal several prick marks in sets of two. Vampire bites. He had been bitten multiple times. Some of the wounds were already scarred and fading. How long had he been their slave? The newest piercing was agitated. The circles were swollen and pussy along with leaking an odd green color. Harry let go of the fabric and leaned back.

"I promise you," the imposter continued, "I've been trying to fight it. I have. When I was finally able to...when I saw I was free..I came immediately to tell you...I'm so sorry. I didn't..."

The elder Weasely at last let up from the wizard who seemed to be on the verge of tears again. Alan appeared to be close in age to Arthur though probably a bit younger. His hair was still entirely brown and he had a full beard and mustache to match, though it wasn't quite as thick as that of the Dumbledores. Even with being let go, he did not stray from the spot he had been left in, realizing his intense position.

"How can we be certain this isn't part of the trick?" Ron inquired, wand aimed at Alan.

"I'll do anything!" Jameson exclaimed. "Literally anything you need. Anything to prove to you. Just please...don't let them take me again."

Arthur glanced back at his wife before exchanging a thoughtful look with the aurors, "How long have you been a prisoner?"

The man shook his head, "I don't...um...when I was twenty. That's when I was kidnapped."

"How old are you now, then?" Harry inquired.

"I-I...don't know," Alan's eyes were darting back and forth in thought. "1827," he finally stated withe certainty, "That's when I was born."

"1827?" Ron repeated. "Blimey."

Alan looked confused, "What's wrong? What year is it?"

"It's the 21st century, mate," Ron answered.

The man's eyes grew large, "You're joking."

"Are _you?_ " the red-headed auror returned.

Alan shook his head fervently.

"What can you tell us about these creatures?" Arthur pressed.

Alan looked nervously between the father and the aurors.

"Come, uh," the eldest Weaseley cleared his throat, understanding the other man's uneasiness, "Sit back down," he added awkwardly, brushing his nose with his hand as he turned and gestured at the couch.

Jameson kept his stance, eyes moving expectantly around until spotting Molly and the witches and then his gaze was on the ground once more. Molly, unable to resist her motherly personality, tucked away from the others, handing George's wand off to her husband and then approached the mistreated wizard.

"Please," she said softly, offering her hand, "Come sit and help us get my son back."


	51. Chapter 49: Precedence

Alan Jameson, born January second, 1827 in Dundee, Scotland to Greig Jameson and Colleen Stott. The pure-blood wizard was reported missing the day after he failed to return home to his parents, but his case had never been solved...until now.

As the next couple of hours passed, Alan's stress lessened and he seemed to be able to think more clearly. It had to be a shock to his system to suddenly be free from a century and a half of mind control. Even through becoming more lucid and less shaky, he retained his fear of the vampires. Any time there was a hint of doubt from the Weaseleys, he reiterated his willingness to do anything should he remain safe from the creatures. As ludicrous as it sounded, the family picked up that he was afraid they'd send him back to his captors.

The man certainly did not act his age. He was like a timid puppy frightened of upsetting anyone. Amidst the dread of George's own safety, it was enough to make them second-guess that the twin would ever be alright after being held by the same dark beings...if he survived at all. Molly instantly grew attached to Alan and felt immense sorrow for the man and oddly decided that though a hundred years her senior, he needed a loving mother figure.

In any case, the gravity of the case had increased tenfold. Finding Gerald would lead to finding George so the aurors needn't disobey the Minister's order to focus on the dark wizard. However, should that not have been so, Harry and Ron both knew they'd abandon their duties to find their brother. Therefore, each kept their focus on learning everything Jameson knew, rather than allow their pity for the man to overturn their mission.

It was hard to know which things of what the wizard said at first were true because of how immensely overwhelmed he was. But as the minutes passed and his mind slowed, the family was able to clue into a few helpful details.

Alan began by continuing to offer apologies with half-complaints about how the vampires used their victims. Hermione was the one that streamlined the random babblings into precise statements. It appeared that when a person was bit, they were endowed with some of the vampire's assets, hence Jameson's longevity. When the master, the one that placed the bite, died, these effects would disappear. Likewise, they would go if the curse was broken. So it looked like Alan would live the rest of his life normally as far as his aging and lifespan went.

To help him get the thoughts out of his head so he could move forward, Ginny had turned the subject to Brad, pointing out what he had done and asking how much of the vampire's power was reflected in its victim. Alan said that it all depended on the individual. He had apparently met Brad and knew he had been willingly bitten. Since the muggle wasn't fighting the influence, he became more vampiric than the usual prey that were struggling to be free again. As far as the family could surmise, someone like Jameson merely held longevity while Brad was gifted with this as well as increased strength and speed though not nearly to the extent a true vampire had.

According to Alan, Brad's bite could only control another person if his master willed it. That meant when he had bitten Gerald, it was Brad's master that then held power over the demon. The vampires called those willing to submit, subvampires or subs while those who weren't were referred to as cattle. The upside of being either was that the victim did not hold the weaknesses of vampire kind such as sunlight and the need for blood. Also, since their senses were not heightened, they did not run the risk of being overpowered in that manner.

At that point, Alan had calmed and Harry successfully pressed him to recall anything about _where_ the vampires were. Anything at all he could remember such as a landmark or a building or even a face. He seemed to legitimately struggle with these details. He had kept shaking his head and stuttering. Finally, he said 'brick.' He then followed it by other random descriptors such as fireplace, marble, and portrait. It took a few momenta until they realized he was describing a mansion. After that, they used a visualization technique to have him look to the outside of the home and describe it as well.

Fascinating enough, it worked, but unfortunately, it could have been any old castle though he assured it was both in Romania and within the hills of the mountains. His other remembrances were equally vague. Different villages, cities, old roads... Even when it seemed that they could guess the exact areas, they were too scattered to pinpoint anything. He named places in Romania, the UK, and even parts of Asia.

Seeing that it wasn't much help, Molly recalled the name he had used upon first revealing himself, "Lacrima. That's a woman's name, right? This was the vampire controlling you?"

Alan had stilled. He nodded his head, "It's hard to picture her...but I'm trying to remember."

The wizard seemed to take comfort in Molly's compassionate nature. It looked to pain him to think of his old master yet with the mother's reassuring prompts, he managed to give a simple description of the creature...but more importantly, her full name.

Lacrima Candea.

Charlie and Ioana had been contacted directly. It wasn't much, but it was something. The longer George went undiscovered, the more the fates would not be in his favor. Neither of their Romanian contacts recognized the name or the other ramblings specifically, but they immediately set out to find more. While they were on the knowledge hunt, the aurors sent to the Minister, informing him of the evening.

With adamant requests from the aurors, Shackelbolt agreed not to arrest Alan. Rather, they decided to send him to a relocation facility. It was a place setup much like a hospital. Jameson would be isolated to the building, looked after and protected within its walls while things were worked out further, instead of being locked up and treated as a criminal.

It had already reached the early hours of the next morning by the time Alan was processed. The Weaseley-Potter-Granger family were thoroughly wiped out, none of them having been able to properly rest during the night. An hour after day broke, there was word from Charlie. However nothing really had turned out.

Ioana had been busy for several hours, getting in touch with what family was left, with friends, and various other acquaintances, but had gotten nowhere. The other dragon keeper called to tell his family this as well as that his own search had ended when he located a retired muggle records keeper who refused to help until 'a less modest hour.'

In London, the Ministry had had no file on such a name. At least not the exact name. There were several Lacrimas and a handful of Candea families, but none together, none that fit the description, and many were marked deceased. Not that that last part meant much in this case.

In the end, Molly and Ginny urged the others to try and sleep. If something should come up, they would all do best to have had rest. Especially if it meant venturing into dangerous territory. They all reluctantly agreed though it'd likely prove troublesome to relax with all that was at stake.

"Ginny?" Harry sat up suddenly in bed upon realizing his wife was no longer beside him. "Ginny?"

The auror threw the covers off of him and sprung from the mattress, head spinning around to see that the witch was not in sight. Bare feet on the cold floor, he grabbed the wand and glasses laying on his bedside table before creeping out of the room, completely ignoring that he wore nothing except his boxers.

His mind was still waking up and under the tension of current events so the wizard was more on edge than he'd have been on any other day. In his head, the threat against those he loved was too severe to think that perhaps Ginny had just been unable to sleep. That she had left her dear husband to rest while she fixed a soothing cup of warm tea.

But that was exactly what had happened.

The auror laid eyes on his wife who sat on their couch, cuddling under a blanket and sipping at her favorite brew, with the telly on low in front of her. He didn't realize how silently he had been walking until the woman jumped at the touch of his hands coming to rest on her shoulders.

"Harry! You gave me a fright," Ginny exclaimed.

"Sorry," the man whispered, leaning down to give her a peck as she twisted her neck to meet him. "What time is it?" he asked.

"It's, uh, about two in the afternoon," she answered.

"Ugh, I should be at the office," Harry groaned as he let go of her to go fetch his clothes.

"It's Saturday, hun," Ginny turned around in her seat.

"Right," the auror panted, stopping where he was, "No word, then?"

As if in response, the home's fireplace lit up and Ron and Hermione stepped into the room. The studious witch spoke instantly.

"Charlie has gotten a lead. We're all going to- goodness, Harry, put on some clothes!" Hermione interrupted herself mid thought.

"It is my home, you know," the auror retorted.

His wife had already removed herself from the cozy spot and was making her way back to the couple's bedroom.

"Anyway, we're all going to meet him now," Hermione finished just as Ginny returned with robes for her husband.

He quickly shuffled them on, piece by piece as his wife handed the items to him. They didn't bother to remove themselves from the middle of the living area, but Hermione did look away out of respect as he dressed.

"Mum and Dad are coming too?" Ginny asked after handing him the last fabric.

"No, they're staying here to keep an eye on things," Ron replied. "Something to do with being around familiar areas if George shows up?"

"Alright, let's go," the lead-auror said as he finished straightening himself.

Disapparation probably wouldn't have been their first choice for the trip as per distance if it hadn't been for the precedence of moving quickly. They found Charlie, normally collected and laid back, pacing the floor of his tiny home as he waited for their arrival.

"Good, you're here," he breathed, making no hesitation or pleasantries before twisting around to grab a broom leaning against a nearby wall. "Can you hold this for me, sweetheart?"

Hermione took the broom he held out and began inching it into her purse, "Is Ioana joining us?"

"I assume not. I haven't been able to reach her for a while," the dragon tamer informed, "She's been busy with her own search."

"Where are we heading?" Ron asked as his blood brother slid past him and his wife and toward the fireplace.

"A village called Biertan," Charlie answered, filling his palm with floo powder. "Ready?"

The others nodded, then watched the wizard call upon the enchanted flames and disappear. The four others followed in couples, as was usual, quickly throwing the soot and speaking the town's name. On the other side, they met with Charlie, in a very quiet and empty pub. The barkeep was a goblin and was the only other being in the building. He placed a heavy stare on them and watched silently as the wizards regrouped and left the area.

They found outside that the building was within the perimeter of a muggle environment. They glanced behind only soon enough to see the pub fall back under the full power of its disallusionment charm. The village itself was incredibly small and poor although seemingly well-kept. It was also quite old for it stayed with the ancient styles that the visitors had seen elsewhere in the country.

"On the outskirts, uh-" the elder Weaseley scanned the distant horizon. "Out that way. There is a property still under the Candea name from centuries ago. It's a wonder the city has not yet reclaimed it."

"And this is the same Candea?" Harry inquired.

"The same family as one Lacrima Candea that fit the description Alan gave you, yes," Charlie confirmed.

The lead auror and the older man began walking simultaneously across the street, closely followed by the rest, "What kind of property is it? A home?" Harry guessed.

"No, some manner of ranch," was the answer.

Ron sighed, "It's a start, I suppose."


	52. Chapter 50: Friend and Foe

After putting a safe distance between them and the town, the wizards were disillusioned before mounting their brooms and taking to the air. None of them were certain what to expect. It almost seemed too easy that this should lead them to the vampire layer. Then again, there was only so much a person could do to hide and it hadn't expected for Alan to break of their grip...especially considering how long he had been controlled.

In any case, the plan was to remain hidden whilst studying the property. It wasn't wise to go in charging should there be enemies about and it wasn't preferred to start any attack prematurely. That being said, each of them were prepared to give it their all should an opportunity arise for them to save their brother. Having Ioana there would have been nice as well as the eldest Weaseley couple, but they were all doing what best they could for George.

It didn't take them very long to reach the ranch. There were three buildings to it, each built at the base of a large hill, the first of many leading to the mountains surrounding Biertan on that side. The main structure was approximately twice the size of Charlie's home, with the second about the size of, and the third couldn't be much more than a shed. In addition, there was a large coop in one of the pastures between the two larger buildings.

From the sky, it all appeared still and empty. They alllowed a brief campout to make sure it stayed that way before deciding 'homenum revelio' should be used since their main goal was to find George. Hermione cast the spell, patiently waiting to see if it yielded any result. Unfortunately, it did not. Disappointed, but not giving up, the wizards hovered a short time longer in case their spell had been picked up by any other. However, the property kept as it was before. Nothing at all changed.

It was at that point they began to believe that it had, in fact, been too good to think it would have lent to the case's aid. Nonetheless, the next step was to actually dismount and physically search the area themselves. Harry instructed the group to split, letting each land at one side of the main building and then creep to meet each other in the front to venture inside. It didn't seem altogether run down until they were actually upon it.

At first, they found the raggedy door locked, but the problem was easily remedied with a simple spell. Once more, they took the extra precaution of taking their time and preparing their wands for attack before actually flinging the door open and storming in. Inside, there was nothing except old bales of hay and some rusty pitchforks as well as other farming and gardening tools. The wooden infrastructure was rotting at many points and it was clear nobody had visited the site in quite some time.

Reaching the conclusion that nothing and no one was hidden inside, the wizards snuck back out carefully, to be sure that nobody had come on them since their entrance. They found themselves in the clear and set out to the second structure, then the shed, and finally the coop. The entire search came up with absolutely no results. From what they could tell, there were no charms or curses cast on the place and it was likely that it was not frequented. It was definitely not used. There were no disruptions or traces of another's presence. They even looked for blood thinking perhaps it had been used as a place for their 'cattle' or food in the past, but there was nothing.

Standing outside in a small huddle with his companions, Harry scanned the area, "We're not leaving yet," he stated, "We should fly around here, up towards the mountains to see if there is anything else. Any other possible lead."

"I was going to suggest the same," Charlie agreed.

"Stay quiet and hidden in case we do run into something. And stay close to each other," the lead auror instructed.

Everyone nodded at the same time and then used their drawn wands to cast their spells again. Even though it actually didn't take much for these charms to be broken through by other magical folk, they still helped quite a lot.

They were in the air soon again. It seemed that the night was getting closer. Harry took the moment to check his pocket and realize it was indeed coming into the evening hours. They may have arrived in Romania before three, but there was a two hour time difference between the places. And the gloomy atmosphere about the mountains in addition to the underdeveloped villages around aided in making it appear darker than it was in reality.

The group spaced out, staying within eye and ear shot of the next person. They made a long line forward past several hills, each growing larger than the next, until they reached an area that was somewhat forested just before the first full sized mountain came upon them. It was at that point that something caught the lead auror's attention. He halted his broom and glanced over to the side at Hermione. She had heard it too. Gradually, everyone had stopped and flew closer to each other as they slowly pursued the sound, flitting this way and that until they could better pinpoint from where it had come. The echoing within the hills made this somewhat difficult.

It was voices. They were...yelling...yet it wasn't apparent if they were angry. It sounded like...men. Two men. The five investigators were once again within close proximity as they slowly hovered nearer the targets. As they went, the echoes became less and the voices were clearer.

"You really are an evil bastard, aren't you?" an exasperated man screamed, his voice cracking.

"Go on home," a loud yet calmer voice answered, "You have no idea what the fuck you are asking."

Harry was the first to see over the next clumps of terrain and spot the two who were fighting. His heart skipped a beat and his palms began to sweat. His wife, next to him, was barely able to catch her gasp by covering it with her hand. There, on the ground, perhaps ten feet from each other was an unarmed George...and Gerald Davis.

"You selfish son of a bitch!" George cried, jolting toward the dark wizard.

They probably should have made sure there was nobody else around before entering the scene, but the family knew George was without his wand and Gerald need only raise his hand to attack...so the entire group immediately swooped down just as the demon threw his hands up at the twin who had run at him.

Charlie was the first to hit the ground, jumping from his broom and then charging toward Gerald. The white haired wizard instantly twisted his neck to see the approaching family. It surprised the newcomers that he hadn't, in fact, attacked the twin but instead had only grabbed hold of George's shirt and threw him back on the dirt.

Charlie wasted no time in sending 'stupefy' at Gerald who easily deflected it with a shielding spell. The dark wizard instantly began backing away though his expression didn't read of fear. Rather, he seemed agitated. Harry, Ron, and Hermione likewise joined in on attempting to take Gerald down while Ginny fell to her knees beside George who was still on the ground. She desperately pulled at his clothes, searching for any wounds and simultaneously asking if he was alright. The twin just kept repeating in a soft whisper, "I'm fine, I'm fine" though he looked thoroughly shocked at the sudden appearance of his family.

The two siblings got to their feet again as Ginny pulled a frightened yet reluctant George away from the battle. She raised her wand, and kept a sharp eye on everything, determined to protect her brother. Thankfully, he fell back with her, realizing both the danger he had been in and how greatly his they all must have been worrying.

"Gerald! You're severely outnumbered!" Harry yelled, not because he didn't think the demon couldn't stand his ground, but because he realized it was growing dark...and that meant _they_ might soon be the ones outnumbered.

The dark wizard reacted in no way other than to deflect another spell that had been shot at him. The lead auror was the first to cease attacking, seeing that Gerald had not done anything but shield himself. After Hermione and her husband each cast 'expulso' and Charlie ordered 'stupefy' again, they too took Harry's lead in halting. Gerald had been constantly pacing backward until the three stopped their assault. He then stayed in his position, staring back at them.

They all kept like that as a few moments passed. Ginny in the rear where the brooms had been discarded, defending George; Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Charlie in an aggressive line with wands pointed at the dark wizard; and Gerald now almost twenty feet away from them, hands casually falling down to his sides. Harry had no idea what the man was thinking...but he was doubtfully planning on surrender.

"Just come with us, Gerald," the lead auror said, catching his breath, deciding on a threat, "We've found where your friends have hidden you. Where else will you go that we can't find you?"

He knew the dark wizard was paranoid and he was hoping to play on that fear to get him to either give in or lose his edge. Harry kept his eyes stern on Gerald, waiting for any hint of his faltering yet none came. Gerald remained as calm and collected as he had the entire encounter. The auror suddenly felt that the man they were dealing with was not the same as he was before. He seemed...stronger. Like he was less afraid...more in control.

"Simple Harry," Gerald purred, completely unconcerned, "I know you don't like me. I wouldn't expect you to. But you should be more appreciative."

Harry grew annoyed with the casual speech amongst such grave circumstances. He opened his mouth to reiterate his treat, but Gerald had continued.

"You've no idea the ways I've helped you. For example," he tilted his chin upward, making an obvious glance at George, "Ask him why he's here."

"If you're insinuating that he's only alive because of something you've done, you're lying to the wrong crowd," Charlie growled, "We know about the mole. Polyjuice potion requires living samples."

"Oh obviously," Gerald's eyes fluttered in solemn sarcasm, "That's not what I meant."

There was a small pause.

"Ask your brother...why he's here," the dark wizard repeated, lowering his chin.

"We don't have time for this," Harry muttered, immediately jumping into his next attack, "PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!"

Gerald literally sighed as he pulled both hands up in a wave in front of him, each circling with energy as the motion formed a shield about him, successfully blocking both Harry's spell and the immediately succeeding one from Charlie. As his defense faded, it was Ron who disapparated quickly, reappearing to the side of Gerald maybe a couple of feet away.

"STUPEFY!" the redheaded auror yelled, actually taking Gerald off guard though not well enough to take him down.

In his surprise, the demon spun to the side, narrowly dodging the spell. Mid-turn, he lunged at Ron, successfully grabbing the wizard's wrist and pulling the armed hand toward his own face, letting it fall just beside his neck. The Weasely's chest thudded against Gerald's and instantly, the two rotated so that Ron's back faced his companions. This movement forced the others to rush near as any distant casting may inadvertently hit the auror.

And this was exactly what Gerald was hoping would happen. Rushing to get different angles on the dark wizard so that he couldn't not dodge all of them at once or trick them into firing upon their ally, the family failed to see Gerald's plan.

The wizard shifted nearly instantaneously from human to the ghastly demonic form they had witnessed during their last encounter. He used the beast's strong legs to jump upward above the battle just as each of the three attacks leapt from the wands. Hermione's stupefy charm hit her husband, dropping him to the ground before the second spell cast by Harry could strike him as well. Panic swept over the group as they watched the demon in the air, fall back to the ground, then bound again, into the space between them and George, protected only by his sister.

"GET RON OUT OF HERE AND GET MUM AND DAD. NOW!" Charlie yelled at Harry and Hermione as he ran after the demon.

Hermione nodded quickly at the lead auror, rushing to her husband's side and taking him into disapparation. Harry followed after Charlie, who had just gotten close enough to Gerald to launch another attack. The demon couldn't seem to dodge the blow though his new form was stronger than the human, as evidenced from a prior battle when a spell injured yet did not have the usual effect on him. It seemed that the extra strength was traded for slower reflex and less range of magical capability.

At the moment Harry put this detail together, he also took in the demon's odd stance. It seemed that he had not made the leap in order to attack the retreated couple, as he had halted far enough away that Ginny could not properly cast a spell, and had stayed there while allowing Charlie's to strike him. It looked like Gerald was considering the situation before making his next move. When he made his decision, however, the auror questioned his original assumption that the twin and Ginny were not his target.

The demon gave another powerful leap, soaring above the young witch as she unsuccessfully attempted to set the creature on fire. Gerald started transforming into a human again just before his feet hit the ground on the other side of the two. Bending at the knees in a hybrid form so to not damage himself, he rose again as a wizard, instantly throwing an arm around George's neck.

He pulled the redhead back against him, tightly grasping his arm in a full circle around his throat. As the unsuspecting twin reached upward to fight the hold, Gerald retained it and continued to drag George further away.

A cry was heard from Molly Weaseley then, alerting Harry and Charlie to the return of Hermione with the parents behind them. They all kept their wands aimed yet hesitated in pressing forward with the battle.

"Gerald," Harry said, "Just let him alone. Just leave. We won't chase you." It was a desperate plea and he wasn't sure himself if he meant it.

"Not that I believe that," the dark wizard called over his captive's shoulder, raising his free hand and holding it next to George's face, "But I have no interest in harming your family."

"Then let him go!" Charlie ordered.

Gerald cocked his head to the side.

"What do you want then?" Arthur stepped up to Harry's side, his voice shook just barely enough for the auror to catch it.

The demon tilted his head back. His expression seemed to change for the first time that day. Gerald showed then a hint of sadness, "Nothing you can help with," his tone had softened.

"Ger!"

A new voice sounded on the scene. The dark wizard along with the others cut their eyes to the side and saw Brad Angston had appeared just stop the closest hill.


	53. Chapter 51: On the Inside

This was what Harry had been afraid of: allowing the battle to drag on until enemy reinforcements came. Night hadn't yet fallen though it was dangerously close. They had another hour at best. Brad appeared to be alone but even the partial vampire advanced their problem.

Gerald still held George and had settled into glaring at both the wizards and his bandmate. The fleeting moment of sorrow he had shown had returned to agitation. This time it was a more noticeable frustration that presented even in his voice, "The fuck are you doing, Brad?"

"Me?" the subvamp asked incredulously, taking a single leap to near himself to the crowd whilst remaining on the hill, "What are you doing? And with him?" he gestured at the twin.

Gerald ignored him, growling with such loud volume that each wizard felt the vibration.

"Ger, are you..." Brad took another, smaller jump, coming to stand fifteen feet from the investigators and less than ten from his friend. "You can't betray them like that," the sub's tone had hushed.

"Betray?" Gerald scoffed, annoyance turning to anger, "You don't even know the meaning of such a thing!"

Harry wasn't sure what thought...what memory had caused the switch, but once more he saw the old Gerald; the one that was constantly on the verge of losing control. It could either be a very beneficial change...or a very deadly one. At any rate, he wanted to see if just another word from the muggle would push the demon over the edge. Although he felt doing so was gambling with the twin's life.

George did not look scared. His face was beginning to wet, the tears that had welled in his eyes having started to crawl out of their puddles. Yet there were no sobs. His expression was still, reserved, despite the obvious despair he carried. He wasn't afraid of death; his concerns lied elsewhere.

Either the rest of the family was contemplating the same choice the lead auror was or simple uncertainty kept them from acting. Gerald's arm loosened slightly around George's throat and his risen hand seemed to weaken, falling out of its aggressive position. Whatever was in his mind, he _didn't_ want to hurt the grieving wizard.

Waiting for Brad to say something further didn't work because instead of continuing trying to convince Gerald, he jumped again, this time into an attack. The wizards instantly readied their wands, aiming for the subvamp as his body neared the group. Brad, however, didn't intend for them. His focus remained on Gerald. Just as he had done when the vampires first revealed themselves, he rushed for his brother's back.

Fortunately for Gerald, he saw it coming this time. Letting go of George and shoving him back to Ginny who had stayed within an uncomfortable proximity the entire time, the demon twisted just in time to face Brad. The moment the sub grabbed Gerald's shoulders, he let go, cutting his eyes to the twin and running. His speed was impressive, but not as incredible as the true vampires.

"Lumos solem!" Ginny commanded, instantly remembering that she was not dealing with one of the corrupt creatures.

The intensity of the light was off-putting yet not harmful and Brad was mostly able to ignore it. As the muggle vampire kept on his path to George, the rest of the wizards closed in. But it was Gerald who landed the first spell.

"Incendio!" the dark wizard's shout set his enemies on the defensive.

Half kept their attention on the sub and the rest put theirs on Gerald. The fire charm successfully hit its mark, drawing a scream from Brad as his clothes burst into flames. Dumbfounded, the surrounding eyes leapt from the burning creature to stare at Gerald.

He had attacked his own ally? The person he called brother?

Wands lifted toward the dark wizard who had stopped after the attack. He stood, awkwardly...in an unprotected position, vision on the ground. George and Ginny had joined with the group where Molly gave the twin his wand back. It was on odd scenario where the wizards were actually torn between saving Brad, who had no way of putting out the fire that engulfed him as he dropped to the ground, rolling in an attempt to do so...and just letting the vampiric minion be.

They absolutely could not hesitate any longer, though. With that thought, Harry threw 'petrificus totalus' at the seemingly stunned Gerald, only to discover that he had been right: the demon had been losing control again...and he had just lost it.

Right before the petrifying curse struck him, Gerald's form began shifting. Shadowy, ash-like energy swirled his body, enveloping it and then wafting away as bony wings extended. Bright red eyes emerged from the mist.

Harry recognized that the showy display signified his complete shift from human to beast. The demon's head moved rigidly to the side as the beaming energy that lit the sockets in his pointed face considered the companion he had set to flame. It appeared that Brad had almost freed himself from the fire as he was rising from the ground under the weight of Gerald's voiding eyes.

"Incarcerous!" came two shouts.

"Expecto Patronum!" yelled another three.

"Incendio!" the last two commanded.

The wizards judged the situation instantaneously and quickly made their assault. The patronus charm would affect the demon better than any other spell that they were currently aware. In the event of Gerald fleeing from it, the binding 'incarcerous' would tie ropes around his body to stop his escape. They likely would not hold him for long, but repeated, it should allow them to weaken and overtake the demon. And since fire had worked so well on Brad just now...

Ropes flew through the air, one set snaking around both of Gerald's flimsy wings while the other managed to curl his arms against his torso. The sheer height of the beast kept the spell from fully encompassing his body, but the succeeding patronus charms shone so brightly that he screeched in pain. Brad had barely been able to dodge the fire charms as he spun, jumped, and landed right beside Hermione, who had been the closest to him.

The moment his face appeared before her, his teeth barred in a hiss and she cast another spell, "Stupefy!"

Shockingly, the subvamp grabbed hold of her wand just as the word left her lips. He ripped it from her grasp, throwing it behind him. Taken aback by his success, the witch stumbled in her backpedal, falling down on her backside.

"EXPUSLO!" Charlie's voice sounded strongly as he stepped up to his sister.

Brad was flung backwards, crashing into the hill where he had first come upon the battle. The dragon keeper reached down, offering to help Hermione, who gladly used his hand to pull herself up before jolting toward the spot where her wand had been discarded. After retrieving it, she put her eyes back onto Gerald with the others.

The demon had broken out of his binds easily, but had remained stunned, hurt by the light of the beaming patronus energies as a corporeal weasel scurried around him in circles, confusing him as to how to break away. Harry, Arthur, and Molly continued forcing the powerful charm while George and Ginny rapidly fired the binding curse over and over to keep the beast struggling. The tactics were delightfully efficient. Gerald seemed fully at his wit's end tearing apart the endless stream of ropes.

"Harry? We have company!" Hermione called loudly.

The family all cut their eyes to the side where Charlie and Hermione had been fending off Brad. This split in their attention caused the binds to come less frequently though the patronus charms appeared to maintain nearly the same strength as before. On the hill, Brad was standing again, but along with his form, could be seen another, flashing in and out of sight as it sped toward them.

Harry glanced at the sky. It wasn't completely dark though apparently dim enough... Vision back on Gerald, he forced more power into the beam of his patronus. Molly put a strong foot forward and did the same while her husband ordered his weasel to leave the demon alone and fly toward the approaching vampire. Likewise, his daughter-in-law began conjuring her own and Charlie had begun inciting flame spells when Brad joined in the pursuit.

Gerald took advantage of the lessened focus on him and dropped his maw, opening it at a surreal angle as an orb of bright red energy formed amidst his many jagged teeth. The demonic attack had been seen in this stage before, but never actually fired. With more people seeking to help Gerald during this fight, the wizards feared that they might now find out the damage it caused.

The next binding spell was intelligently aimed for the beast's mouth. Rope wrapped around Gerald's jaws, forcing them shut and ending the advancement of his magic. Unfortunately, the subvampire and newly seen accomplice had already made it to the scene. Successfully avoiding each spell cast in his direction, Brad had grabbed hold of Ginny's wrist, taking her wand and snapping it in half just before having to jump to get away from a blow from Charlie. The true vampire had his sights set on George. He allowed the twin to believe he was about to be taken by the coming sunlight spell, only to flash away and appear behind him.

"GEORGE!" Molly cried.

Catching onto his distress out of the corner of her eye, she was incapable of focusing on the demon in front of her. She commanded her bear to bound away from its spot and instead shuffle through her son and fend off the vampire behind him. The patronus pained the pale-skinned man causing him to falter yet he did not flee. George spun around as soon as he was free of his captor, and commanded 'lumos solem.' The intensity of the two spells together seemed to keep the creature from reacting in any way. If it weren't for Brad swooping in from above and kicking Molly to the ground, they would have surely killed the vampire.

As the being disappeared, George rushed to his mother, casting the same spell and driving her attacker away. When the twin stopped to help the woman up, he saw that Gerald was actually bending under the pressure of continued exposure to the light-leaning spells. The focus of the binds having moved to keeping his jaw shut, though, led him to instead stretch out his skeletal wings in a sudden motion to prick at the wizards behind the bright energy. And it was enough to make all the patronus fade.

The wings, which were more like a collection of spikes, reached out, threatening to stab the attacking wizards. Harry spun, narrowly missing one as it hit the ground and then retreated. Arthur likewise dodged one by mere inches while Charlie threw up a shield and George pulled his mother closer to him so she would not be damaged. Molly did not get out scot-free though. The bone slid against her shoulder blade, taking a layer of fabric and skin with it as it did. Blood rose from the gash as ash from the demon fell off into the wound.

"Iremise!" an unfamiliar voice said.

Attention was given to the source of the sound. It belonged to the vampire who had most recently entered the battle. He had stopped across from Gerald, on the opposite side of the wizards. He was speaking loudly, but not yelling. Whatever he was saying was a command and he seemed intent on having Gerald obey.

"Iremise! Xereis ti kaneis," he continued.

The demon emitted the same strange sound they had heard from him before: a deep screech. He took a deliberate pace forward and squealed again. None of the family planned on waiting to understand the interaction or to see what came of it. In a silent exchange of nods and gestures, the group split, each side facing either the vampire or the demon.

"LUMOS SOLEM!" The sunlight spell was cast at the vampire from either side.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Ethereal animals danced around the demon.

"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" was sent toward the now burning creature of night.

"INCARCEROUS!" An advanced form of the curse successfully conjured enormous chains to restrict and weigh the dark wizard down.

The assault simply had to work...the overwhelming amount of effort and energy expelled in the spells was weakening the wizards too greatly...and they had run out of time... Night had now fallen and they were all in severe danger, but none wished to leave empty-handed. They had saved George which had been their goal- all they wanted...yet after it all...they couldn't help but feel defeated unless capturing Gerald at last...

The whole area had quieted. The air had become stiff. On one side of the family, lay the vampire, unmoving and slightly burned...but alive. On the other...the demon rolled on the ground, his screeches muffled by his trapped mouth as he struggled against his chains...and he was slowly wriggling free. As Harry noticed the metal binding begin to fall from Gerald's jaw, he weakly started toward him to summon the conjuration again. However, he only managed to call upon plain ropes that the demon easily cast away with a twitch of its head as he snapped his mouth free from the last of the chains.

The crimson energy formed so quickly within his jaws this time and the family was too worn to properly react...to do anything more to stop it...

Suddenly, a new person arrived on the scene.

The figure flashed just in front of Gerald.

"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!"

The demon's head fell instantly, thudding to the ground as his body ceased movement. Gerald's form morphed back into his human self, the chains binding him becoming loose as he once more turned into the small man. The company looked upward, gazing at the newcomer.

"Ronald!" Hermione rushed forward, throwing her arms around her husband.

The auror had been revived and so he returned. Taking in where the battle had gone in his absence, he had apparated to the fallen enemy, forcing his wand inside the open jaw and casting the petrifying curse.

"How did you know that would work?" the witch asked as she left the embrace and stared down at Gerald.

"Well, I didn't," Ron answered plainly. "But you're always weaker on the inside, right?"

Hermione pondered the seemingly deep thought for a moment as the rest of the company came closer and huddled about. Harry was the only one not looking at Gerald. His eyes were on the hill beyond.

"We need to get out of here," he breathed, watching as Brad turned around and began heading back from where he had originally come.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** ** _You're always weaker on the inside._**


	54. Chapter 52: What Goes Around

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: notsing and so ends the last bit of the stuff with George as far as this ordeal is concerned. *will delete message once you read it***

Somehow, leaving the battle was actually more strenuous than having fought it. Partially, it was due to having to carry two petrified people through apparation, but the largest part was how fatigued the wizards had become and knowing that more vampires were certainly on the way. When everyone had relaxed enough to think upon the events, it had appeared strange that a single vampire had ventured out alone. Brad, not being allergic to sunlight, made sense to have shown by himself, but why would the superior creature have done so?

Perhaps they would soon find out, as the curses were being healed now that both men were properly restrained. Sometimes it was easy to forget that those under the petrifying spell remained conscious and aware, since they were completely paralyzed. Upon remembering, it always made handling them much more awkward. Nonetheless, proper cells had been constructed to contain each of the being's individual powers. That being said, both prisons were exceedingly similar. They were honestly exactly the same except for one minor detail.

The vampire and the demon had limitless brawn though Gerald had to shift to his second form to achieve that strength. So the cells needed to be durable enough to withstand any pressure they could put to it. This was the simplest part, really. Fortified steel bars lined with sharp spikes did the trick nicely while the in-betweens were charmed with shields to defend against such might as well as any energetic beam Gerald might produce. Keeping the cages small further aided in making it difficult for him to become the demon.

The difference between the two was that while the vampire was free to move about within his square, Gerald's hands were bound behind his back so tightly that he was incapable of even twitching them. The chain was then attached through to the underside of the bricks comprising the floor. It had to be entirely uncomfortable and it may not have been necessary with the shields layering the walls themselves, but the Ministry was not taking chances with his wandless abilities.

The aurors and their family had spent the time at the burrow sitting in the company of the Minister and relaying the events to him. Shackelbolt was, by most accounts, a stoic man, but he seemed greatly relieved to know that the case had almost reached its end. The dark wizard was in custody as well another whose capture might lend aid in ceasing any further attack from the vampires and their ilk.

"I have to admit," Harry started, "I am curious as to what Gerald was talking about."

"He was probably just trying to get under your skin, mate," Ron insisted, "Besides," he laughed, "He's got to be awake at this point and I'm betting he'd chat with you now."

"Hm," the Minister hummed, "With freedom being so important to him, he might, but I don't want anyone speaking with him or the vampire for another day. Let both of them stew and give yourselves time to rest."

"Fair enough," the lead auror nodded.

"Well," Shackelbolt rose to stand, "This should please the Malfoys and the public which should do with diminishing your stress," he ginned, looking over to the twin, "And George is amongst loved ones again."

The room smiled as Molly leaned to the side, ignoring the burning wound on her shoulder, and rubbed her son's back. He gave a sort of smirk to show slight embarrassment at the attention. Upon returning, revelio charms were performed in addition to a quick physical inspection to be certain he was free of bites. It was, without doubt, their beloved George and he appeared to have not been harmed. It also felt as if he was a bit less depressed than he had been before this adventure.

After the Minister had departed, Arthur put his gaze on his found son, "We're glad to have you here again."

"I'm glad as well," the twin's reply was sincere yet he also seemed preoccupied as he looked back down at his lap.

"Is there something on your mind, George?" Hermione approached carefully.

George took in a deep breath...and exhaled slowly, "I just wanted to thank all of you," his face was up again, "I know you've meant well," he smiled, "So you deserve to know...to hear what Gerald meant about me...from me."

The room grew solemn. It was on all of their minds, but none of them wanted to push their depressed brother and son. The entirety of recent events had left them questioning how was best to treat him- what should be done for him. Now they were sure that letting the twin get whatever he was thinking off his chest quickly, and talk to them as he felt he needed, was what was best.

Another inhale, "I asked them to take me...more or less," he said, eyes darting from one person to the next as he awaited their judgement. "I mean, when I was in the field, checking the traps...a vampire almost killed me and I screamed. I screamed Fred's name. I don't know why...but he stopped and stared at me...and in that hesitation, I just blurted, 'All I want is to see my brother again."

George paused. It was clear it was stressing him to tell the story in the first place and the recollection of the instant he cried to his enemy, a new tear fell. He tore his vision away from his family and sniffed. After a moment, he continued, "I had been thinking about it pretty much since I first heard you talking about Gerald and his magic," the twin looked at Harry. "It's stupid, I know, but I just couldn't help to wonder if he could...if necromancy was real, then..."

It had been an idea the others had already flirted with upon witnessing George's reactions to the topic of the dark wizard. It had been eventually abandoned, Ron being the first to dismiss the possibility that his brother would search for such a way to bring Fred back. Something about the realization that the twin had contemplated it so deeply was alarming. Even knowing that he now saw his own error in judgement.

"I was surprised when, instead of slicing my throat as the vampire had started to, he asked me what happened to my brother," George shook his head, "It was so odd. Two more of them had halted around me as well. I didn't understand why they cared. I guess they really didn't," he shrugged, "But I told him Fred had died and it was like he read my mind. 'You're looking for Gerald,' the vampire said. I could only nod... The next thing I knew, I was bound and being carried away."

There was a short silence. George slowly scanned the other sets of eyes in the room as they studied him as well. Harry couldn't tell if the twin fully saw that they didn't think he was terrible for what happened. Although, he had displayed a moment of weakness that could have ended his life, he had done nothing wrong. What happened with his kidnapping and the imposter that took his place had not been his fault. From the way he told it, his outcry may have actually saved his life. The rest of their curiosity had already been answered.

While the Minister was still around and George was being inspected, Shackelbolt had inquired as to what had happened during his stay with the vampires. The twin stopped to think about it before sharing that nothing had really occurred. He had not been bitten and he had not been talked to. He said he had been kept in a room, not a cell though it had next to no furniture and there were no windows. There was a tiny bathroom, a mattress, and four walls. Apparently one night as he slept, someone came in and left a thick blanket atop him. Outside of that, the only contact was an occasional entry for hairs to be plucked from his head, presumably for the polyjuice potion. Sometimes, he said, he was sure the person was a vampire and sometimes he couldn't tell, but they always remained silent.

"Did you ever speak to Gerald?" Ginny asked softly.

"No," her brother replied, "Not until today."

"Was he the one that freed you?" Harry wondered.

George nodded, "I don't think he knew I was there at first. Earlier...I didn't have anything to do, hadn't come up with any plans for escape...so I was sleeping. I jolted awake with the feeling of someone grabbing me. It was him. He had his hand over my mouth," the twin's brow furrowed as if reliving the experience, "I jumped at him. I didn't even think about not having my wand...and he pushed back against me, conjuring a gag in my mouth.

 _"Stay quiet and come with me if you want out of here," Gerald whispered._

 _George couldn't obey. He didn't understand what was going on, what the dark wizard wanted...or if he still wanted something from the white-haired man himself. Instead, the redhead leapt for Gerald again, ignoring the cloth tied between his jaws, knowing that he should act upon his enemy before worrying with speech. But he was too slow to do any good._

 _The dark wizard immediately cast 'expuslo' to push the other man away, and then 'incarcerous' to wrap his hands. This time, it was Gerald who didn't waste his time talking. He simply circled around the younger wizard, taking hold of the rope hanging from his wrists. He pulled at the cuff and led the boy from the room, carefully looking each way and peering around corners as they went._

 _At that point, George didn't bother with fighting. He was fully aware it would do no good and whatever the dark wizard was up to...it appeared he was helping him. The building they traveled through looked like an empty mansion wing. There was hardly any furniture and nearly every step or other small movement caused an echo. Yet still, they went unnoticed._

 _The last stretch was different. It appeared very much lived in and George could hear a couple of voices coming from behind a nearby door that was cracked slightly open. Gerald stopped then, eyes on the door, breathing deeply in and out. When a burst of laughter sounded from the room, the dark wizard tugged at the twin again, scurrying for another, larger door that took them outside._

 _The twin saw that they were in the mountains, but couldn't tell if it was nearing the evening or just overcast. Gerald spun around quickly once they had taken several giant paces away from the building behind. George tried to turn and take in the structure they had left. However, the dark wizard was already facing him and had clutched tightly onto his wrist. The next instant, they disapparated, reappearing in a similar landscape except there were no homes or people nearby._

 _It was then that Gerald stepped away from his unwilling companion and lifted his hands to do away with the ropes and the gag, "Get on out of here," he commanded._

 _George, catching his breath, turned to see the white-haired wizard again and deciding to go forward with his old thoughts, "You can speak to the dead? The ones we can't see?" the twin accused more than inquired, "You can bring them back?"_

 _Gerald's vision thinned. It was obvious he wasn't amused with the twin's rambling._

 _"Help me see my brother again," George asked, "Please."_

 _"No," the dark wizard stated plainly._

 _"Huh?" the redhead took back, "Wh-why not?!" he growled._

 _"Go on home," Gerald ignored the question, "You have no idea what the fuck you are asking."_

George looked down at his lap again, allowing a few silent moments to pass before raising his head and resting sights on his family. The others gazed back, each contemplating what to say and also making sure the man was done talking for the time being. None of them blamed him. None wanted anything other than to comfort him and have him understand that nothing had changed.

Truly, the only thing about the story they pondered was Gerald's actions. It couldn't be coincidental that within the same day that Alan broke free from vampiric control and directly after him doing so, Gerald had freed George. But why?

 _You can't betray them like that._

Brad had warned against defying the vampires...had then acted to stop Gerald... The aurors were clueless as to what they wanted with the necromancer. However, they did know that Gerald had been resistant to helping them from the beginning. It took Brad's choosing the vampires' side and the threat of danger to Oliver as well as Gerald's own capture for him to finally agree. Surely, in his brain, he was betraying nobody as he had been coerced into allying with the creatures.

Still...that didn't answer the question. 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend' didn't exactly fit Gerald's way of thinking either, especially since technically speaking George was his enemy as well, for being on the side of the aurors. If anything, Gerald would have ignored the twin's captivity and left it up to those involved instead of interjecting himself and risking his own hide and interests for the safety of an innocent party. But then, perhaps he felt saving the twin would put himself in better favor with the Ministry.

Harry sighed. How come every time they figured the wizard out, it came right around to doubting his intentions again? and in the same ways? The only thing they really had to go on was his confession to Oliver regarding Lucius' death and those of several others who had thus far gone unnamed. Now that the dark wizard was in a position where he absolutely had to talk because inaction would mean surrender to likely indefinite imprisonment, the auror wondered if he would deny his crimes or just try to excuse them.

"We've all lost people who were dear to us," Harry shuffled his other thoughts away and focused on the twin, "And gone through some horrible things... Even so, none of us can comprehend your exact pain."

"It's true..." Hermione chimed in with a logical approach, "Everyone's experience is different even if it's similar."

"But the important thing is that we understand you're hurt and we're all here for you," Arthur smiled.

And George, weary as he was...let a grin slowly crawl onto his face. He then said something that assured everyone he would, at some point, be okay again. "You guys are a bunch of saps. Should I bring some gigglewater to lighten you up?"


	55. Chapter 53: Bother

"Let. Me. See him," Draco repeated, his words stretched deliberately to relay his angry determination.

"We haven't even talked to him ourselves yet," Ron protested, "And Minister Shackel-"

"The Minister is preoccupied," Malfoy spat, "And as per our original agreement-"

"An agreement that _you_ destroyed by bringing my brother's murderer along!" the redhead growled, stepping closer to the ex-deatheater.

Harry had been casually observing, arms resting behind his head as he leaned back in his desk chair. The young Malfoy had all-but barged into their office that morning before any plans for the day could be made. He started somewhat emotionally with stating how the aurors had finally arrested Gerald, but once he jumped to assuming he'd be able to talk to his father's murderer directly, things had become heated.

He had apparently already contacted the Minister only to be told the man was busy and that the investigations department was in charge of the case. Thanks, Shackelbolt, Harry thought. Nonetheless, the decision to let Draco accompany them to Gerald's cell that day had been left to them. And while the lead auror let his partner get out some of his frustration with Malfoy, he had been silently considering letting the Slytherin tag along.

"Ron?" Harry called for the other auror's attention.

The redhead slowly took his gaze from his verbal opponent and strolled over to where his friend sat and bent over the desk, "Are you saying we should let him?" he guessed with a whisper.

"We'll have plenty of time to speak with Gerald alone," Harry mused, "We don't know what effect Draco's presence will have, but we know Gerald's not good under pressure. And we may not keep the chance for having Malfoy approach him."

Ron sighed heavily, then glanced back at their visitor who stood with arms crossed, staring at the investigators, "Alright. Fine," he said to him, returning to his full height and gaining an aggressively reserved stance.

"Good," Draco glinted. "When are we going?"

"Now is as good as ever," Harry gave while pushing himself up from his seat.

The white-haired man exchanged contemptuous looks with the redhead as the lead auror strolled past them and out the door. Ron picked up his feet quickly to beat Draco out the door, ignoring the other man's disgruntled snarl.

Azkaban was not only a horrid place to be kept, but an extremely unpleasant place to visit. The handfuls of witches and wizards taxed with guarding the place were thought to be of the least amiable law-abiding magical folk known. After being in the prison once or twice, it was no wonder they had become so either.

The very energy of the castle seemed to seep into your innermost parts, tugging at whatever evil may be hidden in your core. There had been other, smaller facilities for holding criminal wizards yet fear of disrupt from their attempts at escape forced the Ministry to relocate nearly every dark wizard or suspect to Azkaban.

The aurors despised being even near the location, but it was an unfortunate duty that they were willing to endure in order to keep the magical community safe. As the trio entered the gates, it appeared that even Draco was unsettled.

Since the capture of Gerald and his vampire counterpart, there had been no report or hint of trouble. Though both Harry and Ron were curious as to how the hold was treating him with his fragile psyche and all. Slowly, they were let through the passages and blocks of Azkaban until reaching the isolated unit where the dark wizard was. And they heard him before actually seeing him. Yet it wasn't threats or the raving cries of the madmen who frequented the prison. Instead, what caught the aurors' and their companion's ears...was singing.

 _"Wish I was too dead to cry._  
 _My self-affliction fades._  
 _Stones to throw at my creator,_  
 _Masochists to which I cater."_

Gerald's soft voice seemed raspy. Like he'd been singing for hours without wetting his throat. And he sounded equally tired as if he'd done just that. The aurors looked at the man, sitting on his behind with legs folded over each other in front of him while his arms stayed vouch to his back. His head was down at first, but upon hearing the approaching footsteps, his face rose to see them. The usual black makeup that adorned his eyes was still there, yet smudged. Through it, it was hard to tell exactly what the demon had been feeling, but there was a certain emptiness about him.

 _"You don't need to bother,_  
 _I don't need to be._  
 _I'll keep slipping farther._  
 _And once I hold on,_  
 _I won't let go 'till it bleeds."_

The dark wizard continued his song as he gazed upon the newcomers. Draco appeared to be taken off guard. It definitely had not been the sight they expected and something of it was quite disheartening. The ex-deatheater gave Harry a confused glance, to which he responded with a quick tilt of his head to urge the man to go forward and speak with his father's murderer.

Gerald's song hadn't ended and he sang through Draco's attempts to converse with him, staring at his victim's son the entire time.

" _I wish I had a reason,_  
 _My flaws are open season-"_

"Do you know who I am?" Malfoy swallowed.

" _For this I gave up trying,_  
 _One good turn deserves my dying-"_

"Listen to me, you slimy-"

" _Wish I'd died instead of lived,_  
 _A zombie hides my face-"_

"Stop that and listen to me!" Draco's voice raised, half-growling and half-crying as he stepped nearer the bars separating him from Gerald.

The singing ceased. Gerald, eyes having remained on Draco the entire time, finally answered, "You look just like your father...on the outside."

The young Malfoy swallowed again, trying to focus his thoughts, "You killed him, you bastard! And you trapped him here. Let. Him. Go!" he ordered.

Gerald didn't move except for his vision, stealing a glance at Harry before replying, "You know, I find it very interesting that I'm the bad guy here. Between Lucius and myself, that is."

"How do I set him free?!" Draco demanded, ignoring the nonchalant behavior.

"You would think it'd be considered a favor," Gerald ignored him in turn. "Potter, you turned out to be a strange character indeed."

Both Draco and Ron cut their eyes at Harry whose face had curled into one of curiosity and confusion. None of them could tell what the point of Gerald's rambling was. Perhaps he'd officially cracked.

"We're not here to talk about me," the auror answered, trying to brush it off. "How do we release Lucius from this curse?"

Gerald tilted his head backward so far that his neck stretched, showing his Adam's apple more prominently than usual. He let out an eerie chuckle before looking back up at his visitors with an evil smirk, "There's nothing I can do about that," he shook his head, keeping the grin, "Lucius made his own bed. It's up to him to wake up."

The answer was obviously unsatisfactory. Draco closed the rest of the distance between himself and the cell bars, slipping his fingers through the spaces. Doing so bent slightly into the energetic shield that was placed there, prompting him to pull back lest he risk damaging himself or the enclosure.

The prisoner stopped smiling then, his eyes resting heavily upon the wizard currently thirsting for his blood, "You know, Draco," his tone had softened immensely, "It's a pity that you waste your love on him," Gerald's eyes fell from the Slytherin and darted back and forth across the floor, "But if your father would swallow his pride long enough for it, you'd see that he does truly love you as well...in the best way his mind is capable of."

Once again, it seemed that Gerald had become lost in his memories. Was he thinking of his own father? His mother? Maybe it was something else entirely...but before the aurors or Malfoy could prepare an appropriate response, anything to help them figure things out, the dark wizard continued.

"It hurts when someone is so singularly focused that they can't properly see you," he stated, "Like I said, it is Lucius' own doing that will free him from his current predicament."

Draco stood there, awkwardly staring at the man in chains, his chest heaving and his face scrunched in contemplation. It was difficult for the others to tell if he was enraged, agitated, of some other powerful emotion. At any rate, it seemed the wizard had taken to trying to think things through before acting out, as he had been prone to do so irrationally.

Harry likewise considered what had been said before deciding what should be done. He wasn't sure if Gerald was messing around, but it didn't feel like that. Before when he had playfully skirted issues, he'd never said so much. It sent the auror to repeating what he had said to them.

He hadn't confessed or denied having killed Lucius, only hinted that he wasn't as evil as the deceased. Otherwise, he'd only reiterated that it was within Lucius' own power to free himself. And then was the bit about loving his son...needing to swallow his pride...

"Gerald," Harry began on a whim, realizing the answers weren't going to be revealed straight-forwardly, "You're saying Lucius is here of his own volition?"

The dark wizard cocked his head to the side, "More or less."

Vague. But the auror had relaxed enough at this point, knowing their case was dwindling. So he had the patience to play this game.

"Does he know this?" Harry tried again.

Gerald smiled then, seeing that the auror had picked up on his mood. Whether that mood was boredom or insanity was still unclear, "He should. I did always chide him on his fatal flaw."

Flaw. His pride?

"I suppose then, if he held you responsible for where he is now...he _would_ have an idea," Harry stared plainly. He didn't really expect a confession yet felt it was in their best interest to try.

Gerald's grin grew to show the tips of his teeth, making the others realize they had never seen such a joyful expression on him before. It was a might disturbing especially knowing the subject that had brought it about.

Draco and Ron had fallen away from the conversation, quietly observing the lead investigator's dialogue with the prisoner. They knew Harry was onto something. However, they didn't appear to understand what.

Harry twisted his neck and nodded at both his partner and old classmate before spinning around and beginning to leave. Malfoy opened his mouth in protest, only emitting a short grunt as Ron followed after the other auror, forcing the last of the trio to do the same. As they turned the corner, the song from before began echoing behind them.

" _You don't need to bother..._  
 _I'll keep slipping farther..._  
 _I'll never live down my deceit..."_

As the lyrics came again, Draco switched an angry glare to Harry, "What was that about, Potter? Why are we leaving?"

"He told us how to help your father," Harry said, "You're not going to get anything more specific from him."

"You figured it out, mate? Was it the crap about loving Draco?" the redhead didn't bother ignoring the shade.

"Not exactly," the lead auror replied, "He wants Lucius to stop being prideful. Admit something."

"Admit what?" Draco's aggravation grew.

"It must be something to do with Gerald," Ron thought, "But what? Outside of saying he didn't kill him, which we know he did, what could be so important?"

"I'm not sure it is necessarily important. I think it may be just how his magic works," Harry said. "With the finger bones...for their spirits to be released, they had to complete a certain act. Protecting who called upon them. What if for Lucius, it's just sharing something he doesn't want to?"

The sound of the trio's footsteps lessened suddenly. Harry and Ron glanced back and halted when they saw Draco had stopped following them. The ex-deatheater stared blankly before him, a demeanor of helplessness and hurt flowing through and from him.

"Draco? Are you alright?" Harry asked, legitimately worried about the man.

The Slytherin didn't look back at his escorts. He only started walking again with a heavy, rapid pace as he pushed by the aurors, rushing down the dank corridors and fleeing from Azkaban...ignoring the concerned calls sent after him.

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: The song Gerald is singing is 'Bother' by Stone Sour. I've abandoned trying to just use songs that were released before the year the story is set in lol. Here's the music video:**

watch?v=Q-pXD0FXLQ8&index=26&list=PLh1fQ2q93H-RWIbHm57loQuULXsiQLcdE


	56. Chapter 54: Best Interest

The aurors had received no explanation as to Draco's sudden departure though it appeared that something said had clicked in his head. Although neither could guess what it was, Harry hoped that it did help matters. Ron, on the other hand, still held difficulty with lending any compassion to the family. Not that anyone would blame him. Harry certainly didn't.

As the two reached their office again and rested, the lead auror found that his own thoughts kept flitting back to Gerald's feelings about the young Potter. That day had been the third time the dark wizard hinted at knowing Harry better than had previously been let on. Like he had been in contact with him in his past. The auror had to remind himself that the demon had been exceedingly close with Lord Voldemort.

 _You know, Mr. Potter, I've had the chance to kill you...twice. I won't pass up the opportunity a third time._

 _Simple Harry, I know you don't like me. I wouldn't expect you to. But you should be more appreciative._

 _Potter, you turned out to be a strange character indeed._

Gerald's voice repeated the threats inside the auror's brain. It wasn't just these things either, but the demon's initial insistence of having cut ties with his evil teacher before the ordeal with Harry and his parents. Also, Oliver's mention of his friend threatening the Ministry, naming Harry and Ron specifically.

He tried not to pay it any heed, but the questions were beginning to grow and weigh on his conscious. He strangely did not feel in any direct danger from Gerald nor did he even feel that the dark wizard truly hated him. But there was something there. A strange character, huh? Did he mean Harry's dedication to justice instead of any personal vendetta? Then again, perhaps he was just toying with him...

"Mate? Are you listening?" Ron's shift in tone made Harry realize he'd been speaking to him for a while now.

"Sorry, I was just thinking," the lead auror apologized.

"The Minster is still busy, but he left word we should focus on Gerald and the vampire," the redhead recapped.

"We need to get a team out to search those mountains," Harry nodded, "The others have to be out there somewhere, according to George."

"I already said that..." Ron's brow furrowed.

Harry's mouth opened and closed awkwardly.

His partner laughed, "It's alright mate. You just kind of disappeared for a moment there."

The other auror gave a half-grin and sighed, "Yeah, it's just... We may have arrested him; may have figured the Lucius situation out; and discovered a lot, but we're far from solving the mystery of Gerald Davis."

"Do you think we'll ever figure him out?" Ron's attitude grew slightly more solemn to match.

"I don't know. I don't know if there's a point to it anyway," Harry admitted.

"Probably not," the redhead shrugged. "Will he stay in Azkaban though is what I'd like to know."

"Maybe. That's not for us to decide," Harry observed. "We're just meant to find out about about these vampires. They're the problem now. Once it's settled, we can look for any evidence for Gerald's current crimes."

"Might be hard considering we have nothing to go on. Not except rumor from Oliver of things he's done," Ron pointed. "I guess get that team organized first then."

The lead auror nodded and the two immediately started calling for other magical law enforcement officers and detailing the situation as best they could. At this point, the case was known to the public and more information was being released in a gradual way to ensure that there was no panic or threat of conspiracy.

The news that vampires existed sent the media drooling. It was the juiciest story in years though not everyone believed it. Fight another surge of government distrust as they might, there were already many denying that what they'd been informed was true. In actuality, it was. It only wasn't the full story.

Gerald Davis' true species and wandless capabilities remained unbeknownst to all but the aurors, their family, the Minister, Saul Croaker, and of course, the Malfoys with their lovely reporter affiliate. With the dark wizard in jail, it was judged that these details were 'need-to-know.' As well, the more who were aware, the more likely it was to be leaked and throwing this onto the public in addition to the existence of vampires would be too much at once. An overwhelmed population only fed to hysteria and therefore increased danger.

After the aurors had put together a group and instructed them as to the areas to be scoped and what they should expect should they come across the dark creatures, it was time to visit their vampiric prisoner for the first time. Confronting the being gave them more pause, more fear than visiting Gerald. Perhaps due to the novelty of the creature. With it, they had even less of an idea of what they would be getting themselves into.

The creature's cell was another isolated block, nearby though unable to be seen, heard, or reached by Gerald's. Stepping into view of the vampire, he instantly put his attention on his guests.

The man behind the bars was tall. Topping out at about six foot with a thin, yet not lanky figure. His skin was deathly pale and his eyes appeared to be black, surrounded by strong features. A prominent jaw line, large brow, and pointed nose. Even his ears seemed angled. His lips were full, but as white as the rest of him and he was draped in flowing black robes. He had been standing when the wizards came around, pacing in small circles within his room. At the sight of them, however, he halted and placed his vision on them, remaining quiet.

"What's your name?" Harry asked, his voice not coming through as strongly as he had aimed.

The vampire stared.

"I'm Harry Potter and this is Ron Weaseley," the lead auror offered the information as was procedure in these cases. "We've been investigating your friend Gerald Davis."

Harry had expected some nuance at the assumption the dark wizard and the vampire were friends, but he was given nothing. The creature just continued his cold stare. He didn't even blink.

"We know that your people value their privacy," the auror kept on. "So I should tell you that if it hadn't been for your interference with our case, that we would have never bothered you."

Again, absolutely no response.

"It would be in your best interest to cooperate with us," Harry's aggravation stayed at bay only due to the sheer unrest that had come over his body with handling the vampire. It was almost like trying to speak to a dementor. "That way we can let you be."

The prisoner blinked once.

"We might as well wait," Ron managed to speak up, using an old yet often successful tactic, "The search party will be done soon and we can move forward with pulling the rest of the vampires out."

The redhead spoke to his partner in a side voice, knowing the other man could hear them but making it appear that he wasn't meaning for him to.

Harry gave a false nod and muttered back, "I would rather it not come to that. All we need is for an arrangement to be made with the Ministry."

Shockingly, the prisoner spoke then, though clearly aware of the aurors' plight, "I couldn't care less for the safety of my clan," his voice was incredibly deep and monotone, "I understand your role here. You want answers. Knowledge of the vampire species, of Gerald, and most importantly what the two have to do with each other."

The aurors listened intently. They figured dealing with the being, likely ancient, wouldn't go easily. Therefore any small word that left his lips was clung to...and it looked as if the vampire knew this. If he wasn't concerned with his people, what did interest him? Were they dealing with a person of mind similar to the dark wizard?

"But I don't give where I don't get," the creature finally moved, cocking his head ever-so-slightly, the motion only adding to his disturbing presence.

"What do you want in exchange?" Harry asked deliberately, careful not to seem eager or meek.

"Gerald," the vampire answered plainly.

The aurors switched glances. Gerald? This vampire wanted whatever the rest of his kind had been after yet there was no way they could promise the dark wizard's release. Even if it was determined that the necromancer was to be let go after some time, it wasn't in their power or their desire to give Gerald up. Surely this man knew what he asked was not doable.

"I would think you'd want your freedom," Harry stated in an attempt to have the prisoner say more.

The vampire, face expressionless, and demeanor void of emotion, lifted a hand and placed it upon one of the many spikes that lined his cage. His eyes remained heavily on the lead auror as he slowly pushed his palm into the sharp tip, forcing it to tear into his flesh and gradually rip through his bones before the metal point could be seen on the upper side of his hand. His entire person stayed exactly as it had been prior. There was no sign of pain as weak, unhealthy looking blood crept from the fresh wound.

"Do you really think you can keep me here unless you kill me?" the monotone voice asked.

Both Harry and Ron were equally unsettled though the redhead was the only one to show his upset. He wore an expression of fear yet moreover he was startled. The vampire gave him time to mumble a couple of curses before he clarified the position.

"The way I see it, you have two choices," he pulled his hand from the spike, letting it linger in the air so that the aurors could see the dripping crimson as the hole slowly started to fill with tissue, healing itself. "You can either let Gerald and I go, leaving our mystery behind and going about your lives. Or you can keep this up to declare war with us. It should be entirely obvious that we have no quarrel with you."

Harry looked from the still-repairing hand to meet the vampire's gaze. The auror was torn about what to do and the mewing wizard at his side was not helping his concentration. Instead of answering the creature, he decided to steer the conversation back to its opening offer.

"You seemed ready to help us out in exchange for getting out here," Harry reminded.

"You'll find that I'm much more agreeable than my counterparts," the vampire replied, "To make your decision easier, I am willing to offer some of this knowledge to you. It should appease your superiors as well as your own guilt."

The vampire was exceptionally confident and intelligent. He seemed to have a good idea about how these affairs worked from all angles.

"We know where your layer is and it's day. What is to keep us from simply pressing forward and taking your people?" Harry threatened.

"It's not a convincing bluff, young man," the vampire accused with a flat affect.

The auror took a deep breath. If the Ministry simply imprisoned the creatures, it would cause an uproar regardless of their species. Humans, elves, goblins- everyone would raise hell for the blanket judgement of an entire race. The Ministry would be called a tyranny. Not to mention, this could be a single clan alone. There could be more that were allies or who would take such actions as a declaration of war upon them as well. On top of that, there were the wizards, muggles, and whatever others under vampiric control. There was too many unknown factors at play.

So Harry retracted his threat, "What can you tell us, then?"

"What do you desire to know most?" the vampire counter-inquired.

The auror paused a moment to contemplate before answering, "I will have to find that out myself."

The vampire at last lowered his hand which was fully healed at that time. He then took two steps backward while his eyes stayed on the wizards, "I'll be waiting here. Though I'd suggest a speedy return." 


	57. Chapter 55: Mihai

"This is unacceptable!" an elder wizard stood, "We should have been notified of this situation long before now!"

"Calm yourself. What good would it have done?" a witch reprimanded from her seat on the opposite side of the room. "The aurors have done their job well and the Minister has kept us from needless hassle until our time was required."

"I agree," a second wizard to her right chimed in, "Regardless, this is not the time for argument. We need to decide what is to be done at present."

Harry and Ron had caught the Minister between meetings and upon hearing of their encounter with the vampire, decided to alter the next discussion from beginning the proceedings of Gerald's trial to bringing forth the choice given them of either releasing the prisoners in exchange for information...or declaring war.

The cabinet began as usual, with righteous indignation from some and sheer concern from others. Politicians were known to seek pushing their own agendas and adhering to strict stances irregardless of actual consequence as they often felt above others and therefore protected. The aurors were pleased to find that the current majority were agreeable. Much of which they were sure was to do with Shackelbolt's own intolerance of self-absorbed leaders.

"We cannot release a dark wizard simply because of a threat," the same haughty man as before huffed. "What are we that we should bow to the demands of terrorists?"

A murmur picked up. It was a valid point, yet outright ignoring the possible terrible and likely dangers of denying this truce was not wise.

"The Ministry has come to many agreements with criminals, both reformed and not, in favor of the greater good," another voice came, "We must not put our own pride before what is best for the largest portion of citizens both muggle and magical."

"I would like to hear the aurors' thoughts on the matter," a middle-aged witch put her attention on Harry and Ron, who had been quietly observing.

When the others in the room switched their gazes to the investigators as well, Harry stood to address them, "We cannot comment on Gerald Davis' exact state of mind or his intent. Nonetheless, since this case began, we've seen the kind of man Gerald is. He's easily provoked yet seems to keep his company few in order to counter his short temper. That being said, he has not, to our knowledge, in recent years, made a habit of abusing his power when not threatened.

"Ignoring his defenses against arrest, the only crime that has been made evident since his arrival in the UK has been the murder of Lucius Malfoy. Once more, it could be argued that this was in defense. The last spell cast from Lucius' wand was the killing curse and Ron and I are both witnesses to an altercation between the late Malfoy and Gerald Davis where Gerald's life was openly and directly threatened before he returned such aggression.

"During our most recent battle, he even refused offensive techniques until he was cornered," the auror did his best to explain the demon's behavior without revealing his nature. "My own brother-in-law, who was captured by the same creatures who coerced Gerald into joining them, has testified that it was Gerald who freed him in the first place.

"On the vampires' part," the auror paused to take quick breath, "They _are_ a direct and imminent danger to both the Ministry and our community. We know of at least one wizard who was kidnapped and forced into servitude for nearly two hundred years. Aside from this, they have made attempts not only on my life and that of my partner and our family, but on others involved in this case.

"And we know very little about them. It is not just probable, it is definite that until we can understand their reach and their inner-workings, provoking them any further puts the livelihoods and the lives of the magical community at risk."

A still settled among the members of the Council as the auror's words registered.

"I take it then, that you are advising us to set the prisoners free?" the man, who had been against the idea from the start, asked critically.

"I'm only sharing what we have come to know," Harry answered, "But I would suggest that we look to ally ourselves with the vampire in custody."

"A trade of knowledge and agreement to refrain from battle for his release and that of Mr. Davis," Shackelbolt hummed from his podium. "Until we can concrete whether movement against the creatures is wise or settle upon an agreement that ensures the safety of the public against vampiric magic and feedings?"

Harry nodded, oddly remembering that Gerald hated being called mister.

"What says the council?" the Minister asked, scanning the room.

There was a slight murmur and turning of heads before hands began to rise into the air, in favor of the auror's suggestion. It was the indignant wizard who was last to agree...and not without a further argument. "And what is it will we demand to know before this release?"

"A contract, for certain?" a witch asked.

"I don't imagine they are eager to go to war either, as per their life in the shadows," the Minister mused, "I feel this is appropriate to ask. The vampire must agree with the unbreakable vow, his cooperation in assisting the aurors in learning about the species with exception to direct knowledge of their whereabouts."

Shackelbolt glanced around the room, receiving silent approval before looking back at the one disgruntled politician.

"What of this Gerald, then?" the wizard raised a brow. "What is to be expected of him?"

"His cooperation with the vampires in exchange for his release from Azkaban, of course," Shackelbolt said.

"What if he refuses, hm?" the man retorted, turning to Harry, "You said yourself that he didn't want to help them in the first place. And we don't even know what it is they want from him. How do we know-"

"He won't refuse," the auror interrupted confidently. Gerald needed the vampires' help and allowing the creatures and the Ministry to engage in war would do him no favors. "And that detail would be part of the contract."

The older wizard scrunched his face, reluctant to admit defeat. However, he finally sat, prompting the Minister to end the discussion, "It is decided then."

With a rap of his hammer, the group was dismissed. The aurors joined Shackelbolt in his office for a few brief moments of paperwork and instructions before setting out once again. Arthur Weaseley, Hermione Granger, and Saul Croaker were called upon for their assistance in setting the prisoners free, after the vow had been completed. All were Ministry employees familiar with the case and trusted by the aurors and the Ministry overall. It would do the situation well to have these extra wands.

The vampire was first to be approached, giving them the same unsettling greeting as earlier that day, leaving his guests to speak first.

"The Ministry has made a decision," Harry informed. "Make the unbreakable vow that you will teach us about your people and you and Gerald will be let free. Furthermore, we will not look for you or ask for information of your whereabouts. We will only act upon you or one of your kind if attacked or invaded."

The vampire stared for a moment before responding, "It is agreed."

Harry nodded to the guard that had accompanied the five of them. The witch answered by raising her wand and aiming it at the cell. Whispering an incantation, she removed the shields from the bars and then commanded them to slide away and let the prisoner out. She didn't lower her weapon, but rather kept it pointed at the vampire. In precaution, Arthur, Ron, and Hermione lifted theirs.

The vampire slowly stepped through the new opening in his cage, scanning the wizards before resting sights on Harry, and offering his arm, "Mihai," he said.

The lead auror nervously lifted his arm to match, "Is that your name?"

The creature gave a small nod, "Mihai Iliescu."

It was Saul Croaker who stepped forward to perform the binding contract. The spell drew slithering tendrils of energy from his wand which wrapped the vampire and the auror together as he spoke the agreed upon terms.

"I swear," Mihai's monotone sealed the magic.

"Well, I suppose it's time to gather your companion," the unspeakable spoke plainly, the only one not put off by the dark being's presence in the slightest.

"Right," Harry dropped his arm, stepping to the side and motioning for Mihai to walk alongside him.

The vampire did as was suggested and the others followed after the two, mostly out of insecurity of their current company. As they left the chamber and began through the corridors that would lead them to Gerald, Harry put his attention on the man walking beside him.

"Mihai...what is it exactly your clan wants from Gerald? We know you've offered him help with controlling his...temper," the auror stated in a way that both allowed the vampire to understand his meaning without revealing to the guard about the demon.

"You've almost confirmed the theory that wizards traded their magic to become what I am," Mihai didn't look at the auror nor did his expression change. "Let me do this for you. You see, something unbeknownst to most is that magic comes from the very essence of a person. Their soul, if you will. It is an ability to control this vital energy that sets muggles and magical folk apart.

"Giving this control for a different set of capabilities does not render an individual soulless, but it does corrupt that essence. Much like a horcrux. Gerald is...a rare gift. He was born of a creature that has not traveled our world in quite some time. Millenniums, in fact. It's what gives him his connection to the next life while still living this one. It is our fervent belief that he has the potential to heal our corruption so that when we finally meet our end, our transference to the beyond is uninterrupted...untainted."

"Would fixing this...corruption make you a wizard again? Take away your current powers?" the lead auror wondered.

"Not necessarily," the vampire hummed, "Healing a wound can still leave a scar. You're whole again, but not unchanged."

The group halted then, waiting for the guard to open the passage leading to the area where Gerald had been imprisoned. The aurors listened for a continued song yet nothing was heard. It gave them worry that something had happened but it was fleeting as they soon lay eyes on the necromancer, on the floor, arms bound, and his head hung. He didn't acknowledge their entrance until Mihai spoke.

"Efthymia, file. Tha pame spiti tora," the flat affect that had become characteristic of him seemed to lilt for the first time, however faintly.

Gerald lifted his head at the sound of the vampire's voice, his expression mildly confused yet uplifted, "Toso apla?"

Mihai's answer did not come verbally, but seemingly through a simple, knowing blink.

"It's rude to speak a language your company does not comprehend," Croaker spoke again and not in a jovial manner either.

The vampire twisted his neck to look at the unspeakable, who kept his gaze without falter. Whatever gave the old man such steel nerves, the aurors surely could benefit from. Even Arthur appeared to have trouble remaining steady.

"Gerald," Harry began, "You're being released with the promise you will uphold your agreement with the-" he caught himself, using a more ethically appropriate word choice, "With Mihai's clan. As well, you're expected to follow our law."

The demon's eyes flashed with an emotion that resembled rage or exasperation or perhaps both. At any rate, it felt momentarily that he was not going to agree. His eyes cut away from the auror, glancing at Mihai before returning...discontent but agreeable, "Very well."

The guard once more came forth, disarming the prison's shields and then slinging it open. She approached the dark wizard carefully, circling around to the other side of him. Training her wand at the enchanted metal binding his arms, she recited the same incantation, ordering the restraints to clink to the ground.

Gerald retrieved his arms, stretching them in front of him and bending his joints several times as he rose to his feet. The movements caused the Ministry workers to flinch, though they assumed he would not try to use any magic. To do so would only land him back from where he had just emerged.

When he looked up again, his eyes rested on the vampire and he took a pace toward the being who stared back at him. The sight was confusing to the others and the aurors tried to study the encounter. It was impossible to tell what either of the dark beings were thinking. The stance came off antagonistic and at the same time, seemed to breathe relief. It was Mihai who broke from it.

"Then we can leave now?" he presumed rather than asked as he turned from the demon and started strolling from the rest. "And we shall stay in contact."

Gerald looked back at the lead auror before stepping after the taller creature. It looked to Harry that he wanted to speak yet for whatever reason, voted against it. Just the same, Harry fought the urge to inquire anything of him. The wizards escorted the two to the double doors of Azkaban's single entrance and exit. As the massive doors gradually leaned away, sweeping open, the aurors were reminded that although the day was waning, night had not quite fallen.

"Wait! How-" Harry began, realizing that they had not planned this release according to the vampire's affliction.

However, as the sunlight poured through the opening entryway, a cloud of thick, black energy surrounded Gerald, who turned to the wizards with a slight grin as his dark energy enveloped both himself and his vampire companion. The demon could barely be seen grabbing Mihai's wrist before the two dissapparated, the fog wafting away when the creatures vanished.


	58. Chapter 56: A Gift

"I'm surprised that after everything, we just let them go," Ron sighed.

"I'm more surprised that it happened so quickly," Hermione said.

"How do you think Draco is going to take it?" Ginny asked.

"I dunno," Harry answered, "But I suppose we're about to find out."

The four had taken off the following morning to prepare the Malfoys of the news before anything was made public. They had started at his personal residence, but when they found it empty, they'd continued on to Malfoy Manor. Since the Gerald ordeal, the memories of the place had begun to fade, as if finally its evil was washing away.

They stopped at the doorstep and Harry lifted the knocker to request entrance. Several moments passed with no response. The auror repeated the action. Once more, nothing.

"Do you think he's pouting ag-" Ron started with a chuckle, only to have the building open up.

There was nobody immediately inside, so they slowly stepped over the threshold.

"Draco?" Harry called, his voice echoing within the empty home.

The couples paused as they neared the staircase, watching the door close behind them. When their eyes were once more on the interior, the Slytherin had appeared at the top of the steps.

"What do you want?" his voice was loud, but not strong, and his eyes did not meet those of his guests.

"We wanted to tell you-" Harry spoke again.

"That Gerald was freed? I'm aware," Draco seemed upset...saddened...but not by the release of his father's murderer.

"News travels fast, yeah?" Ron whispered, "Can't trust anybody."

Hermione shook her head at her husband and focused on the ex-deatheater again, "We're sorry, but you'll have to tell Lucius-"

"He's gone," the boy muttered.

His old classmates hesitated. So he had figured out what Gerald was alluding to.

"Draco," the lead auror took a calm pace forward, "Could you tell us...what it was?"

The man on the steps turned a glare to Harry, who readied himself for a furious excuse. It shocked them all when he instead, was met with teary eyes.

"My father failed Voldemort and he punished him by branding _me_ a deatheater," Draco cried.

The aurors and their sister recalled the story Hermione had shared with them from Astoria, but didn't speak on it. They simply waited for Malfoy to carry on after fighting away showing his weakness any longer.

"I knew this," his voice had hardened, "What I didn't know?" he took a heavy step down, fist on his chest, "He offered me to him. My own father," his lips became a snarl as he uttered the word, "Willing to make me risk _everything_ to fix his mistakes."

The aurors and their wives were struck dumb at the revelation. Speechless. None of them had held Lucius to any standard other than arrogant, selfish, and cruel. But this? To oust not only his son, but the boy who had adored his father his entire life and modeled his own character after? In that instance, even Ron felt pity for his old rival. And they all wondered if Gerald's inhumane punishment hadn't been so horrid after all.

"Draco, I-" Harry tried.

"Just go," Malfoy shook his head as he spun around, climbing the stairs again, "Leave me."

The four watched as the ex-deatheater vanished from sight before turning to leave themselves. Nothing could be said. Nothing could be given. It was best just to heed, and let the man be.

They made their way in silence back out of the home, down the path, and then dissapparating to the Potter household. Even amidst their own company, they found it hard to find the right words to address what they had just learned.

"I'll make some tea," Ginny decided on, "You're going to have a long day facing all of those unsatisfied when they hear about the Gerald situation."

Unfortunately, strings of complaints from the public wasn't going to be the aurors' primary concern that day. After resting for a while and waiting for tea until they actually headed into work, the cellular in Harry's pocket rang. Initially, he ignored it as he was in the middle of fixing his beverage. However, once it continued to ring after he took his first sip, he relented.

"Hello?" he picked up.

"Harry, it's Zudd."

Realizing it was indeed a business call, the auror gave the magical law enforcement officer his full attention, "What is it Timothy?"

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but...I've got another body for you," the wizard informed.

"Who-"

"You know I can't give that information on a line," Timothy replied. "But the scene is all secure. I warn you not to freak out, but...I need you and Ron to meet me at your brother's joke shop."

Harry's blood went cold. George?

"We'll be right there..." the auror mumbled, his voice cracking.

"Harry? You look... What's wrong?" Ginny had inched close to her husband and placed her hands on his thigh.

The wizard ignored her, standing on shaky feet. Tim had said not to worry, but how could he not when...

"Harry!" Hermione shouted, concern clear in her own unsteady voice.

The lead investigator realized that he had already made it to the fireplace without saying a single word to the others. He swallowed hard and tried to formulate an answer that wouldn't upset them as much as Officer Zudd's call had done to him yet his disrupted focus made him fall short of properly handling it.

"There's a body. We need to go check it out," he said, grabbing a handful of floo powder as his wife jumped to take hold of his arm.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"I think maybe just Ron and-"

"No," the witch refused, "You're obviously spooked. I'm going with you."

"Harry, where is it?" Hermione inquired weakly.

"Timothy assured me that there's nothing to worry about," the auror said first.

"And yet you're acting like you just lost..." his partner began scoffing, his attitude changing the instant the rest of that statement hit his brain.

"Ronald? Now you're both legitimately scaring me," Hermione said, "Where-"

"Weaseley's Wizard Wheezes," the lead auror reluctantly admitted.

Ginny didn't wait a moment longer before forcing the powder from her husband's hand and onto the floor as she spoke the nearest network to the twins' shop. She pulled the auror into the fire as the other couple rushed to take their turn after.

Coming out on the other side of the fire, Ginny quickened her pace down the cobble street, nearly leaving Harry behind in the process. The stunned auror took control of himself again and grabbed his wife's arm, forcing her to slow and allow him to take the lead, holding her tightly at his side.

The four came upon the roped off scene quickly, first laying eyes upon Timothy as he met them with hands up, "I know what it sounds like, but," the officer offered but was shoved away as the aurors and their wives pushed through.

As they made it past the tape and to the building beyond, they were stopped by a man exiting the shop.

"George!" Ginny cried, throwing her arms around her brother as the other witch bound forward to do the same.

They soon relieved the unsuspecting wizard to see a blank look rivaling that which had taken Harry over during the phone call.

"What happened, mate?" the lead auror asked, his own heart relaxing knowing that his brother was safe, yet not completely resting as the uncertainty of the scenario loomed.

The twin shook his head and raised his brows as if too disbelieved to explain the situation. Instead, he stepped away from the door of his shop, and gestured at it. The group watched as he began scratching his head and took a position a few feet away. Both Harry and Ron quietly asked their wives to stay with the twin as they moved onward.

The two investigators entered the shop. Inside were a handful of other officers taking photographs and nosing around the place. And although Timothy had caught back up to them at this point, he was too late to inform them of the incident. The aurors saw it for themselves.

"Blimey," Ron breathed.

Harry, settling his vision on the corpse that sat on the floor and leaned against the counter, knelt to better take in the sight.

Dead eyes open and set forward, a look of terror on his scarred face that was now washed of all color, drained of his vital fluids...was Augustus Rookwood.

In his lap was a bouquet of daffodils. The yellow flowers, laced with a note, perched from between the missing digits of the deatheater's hands. Every other finger had been severed...and was missing.

Harry reached out and took the note, and, flipping it open, read its message aloud.

 _This is the least I could do. I know it's not what you asked, but I hope it suffices. ~Angel of the Abyss_


	59. Author's Note: Sequel & Gerald's POV

_I hope you've enjoyed the story! I certainly had a blast writing it. This will be a series. The sequel is called 'Harry Potter and MACUSA'S Medding' and I will post a link here as an update when I start it. I have another story to finish before I begin that which is a Nightmare on Elm Street fanfcition called 'Playing with Power' in case you'd like to check it out._

 _I will also be doing re-telling of the events of these books as well as those that led up to them in Gerald's point-of-view. The story is called 'Misadventures of a Dark Wizard.' Link here:_ _s/12862466/1/Misadventures-of-a-Dark-Wizard_

 _Hope you have a wonderful day and thanks for reading!_

 _~ Sahreth 'Baphy' Bowden_  
 _aka Baphy1428_


	60. Sequel is up!

I've officially started on book 2 in my Secrets of Grindelwald series. You can find it on my profile, or go to the direct link here: Harry Potter and MACUSA's Meddling

[HeadCanon/OC/post-Hogwarts] Book 2: After Gerald Davis resurfaces, it is decided on by the Minister for Magic and the majority of his affiliates that pursuit of the dark wizard has brought about more harm than good. Questionably, the wizard was merely untrained in magical law, having been forced to live a muggle life in his native country.

On a test of good faith, Gerald is allowed to continue in his freedom, with the expectation that he follow the Ministry's law even when threatened. It at first appears that the retired necromancer is in sincere agreement with these terms. However, when MACUSA hears of the Ministry's proposal, they are not impressed and call for the American criminal to be returned to them to face their good judgment.

GENRE: Fantasy, Mystery, Crime

RATING: Teen for Thematic Elements, Violence, Language

POINT OF VIEW: Third person, focused on Harry

TRIGGER WARNING: Self-harm, Substance Abuse, Suicidal Behavior

BOOK TWO in the Secrets of Grindelwald Series

SEQUEL: ?

RELATED STORIES: Harry Potter & the Dark Secret [Book 1]; Misadventures of a Dark Wizard [Prequel]

[Omits details from The Cursed Child]

[I own only my OCs and the plot of this story. Everything else is the property of J.K. Rowling and affiliates.]


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